A Position of Power
by Dazzleberry
Summary: Cornelius Fudge, in his infinite wisdom, has once more decided that Dumbledore is a threat. What kind of imbecile is he going to appoint this time? Power struggles ensue. Rated for language, and no idea what genre it's going to develop.
1. Chapter 01: A Well Made Decision

Chapter 1:  
A well-made decision

August 9  
The Ministry of Magic

"No. I don't care if he's Merlin reincarnated, I won't have it."

For the fifth time, the argument began again, but most of the upper-level Ministers were growing tired and it seemed that Fudge's tenacity was going to win over all their protests. They all knew that they weren't going to win this argument, and what protests were left were born of principle rather than necessity.

"Fine. Who are you going to have replace him? We cannot spare anyone, and the board of governors will never approve anyone who isn't qualified. Which is no one we have here."

"Don't be such an idiot, Humphrey. Do you think I started this without a plan?"

Humphrey kept his mouth shut. It would be _exactly_ like Fudge to start trouble without a plan. Cleaning up messes was not the work of the Minister of Magic. "Who?"

"It will have to be a Pureblood to pass Malfoy's inspection, and someone he can keep under his thumb, and we all know that the board won't stand up to Malfoy." That was the type of statement that once would have shocked people, but the times were such that it took significantly more to shock the Ministers than accusations that Lucius Malfoy used his considerable power to bend the Board of Governors to his will. They weren't ready to accept that such a powerful man might not be on their side, but they could accept a touch of extortion.

"The one I have in mind is above reproach, even for Lucius Malfoy. In fact, I believe he will be a staunch supporter."

"And what about the teachers? After last year's fiasco, you can't expect them to step calmly aside while the Ministry..."

Fudge grimaced. "Last year was an unfortunate error in judgement. Of course they will balk at Ministry interference, but this time, there will be no Ministry official in the school, so it shouldn't be such an issue."

Humphrey looked doubtful. "And qualified? Cornelius, I am not going to cast my vote for anyone who isn't qualified for the position. I disagreed with Umbridge's appointment, and I think you did lasting harm with it, and by Merlin, I will not cast my vote for anyone else who is not qualified. We have those students, and the future of our world to think about, and I don't care if we're here until the sun explodes, I am _not_ going to approve anyone who doesn't have the qualifications." From most of the wizards and witches at that table, such a threat would have been empty. But Jeffrey Humphrey was the Minister of Education, and he could get away with such a bland statement. At least, until he was replaced, and he wasn't sure that his replacement wouldn't come within a month if he didn't approve Fudge's 'suggestion'. Oh well. There were worse things than being fired by Cornelius Fudge, and increasingly, Humphrey wasn't sure he didn't wish it. He had a sense of duty that wouldn't let him simply quit, but if he were sacked...

"And what qualifications do you think are required? The Headmistress of Hogwarts-- sign a few papers, make a few speeches at the beginning and end of term and smile for the parents. There is nothing..."

A chorus of snorts interrupted the Minister. Perhaps that was what was required of _him_ but they all had a much better idea of what a position of authority entailed. Fudge was a figurehead, the rest of them had true power.

"There is _nothing_ to worry about."

Humphrey sighed. "I want a teacher. Someone who knows what teachers have to put up with and..."

It was Fudge who snorted this time. "Bah. Teachers are a knut a dozen. You read a book and give a test. What's so hard?"

Humphrey just glowered. "I'd like to see you survive a year at Hogwarts," he muttered half under his breath.

Fudge ignored him. "Anyway, you'll be pleased. The witch I have in mind is a teacher. She taught charms at Beauxbatons."

Humphrey frowned, trying to remember who taught charms at Beauxbatons. His most recent memory was of a lovely young witch whose name eluded him, but she was just that-- young. Her predecessor had been a wizard with a terribly common name. Jones or Humperdink or some such. His predecessor might have been a witch, but the last witch he knew for certain had taught charms at that school was a woman who had always struck him as cross and stern. Almost like Minerva McGonagall, in fact, and Humphrey could see her as a Headmistress quite clearly. If she was Fudge's choice, he had to admit that it was a well-made decision. Possibly the first in Fudge's career. "Well," he said carefully, after a long pause, "who is it?"

"A teacher with ties to the Malfoys and no affiliation with Dumbledore. What more could you ask, Humphrey? Her name is Regalia Malfoy, a distant cousin or great-aunt or some such to Lucius. I doubt you've ever met her."

Of course. Professor Malfoy. How in the name of Merlin's beard had he forgotten that she was a Malfoy? As soon as Fudge said that, the image in his mind clarified, and he could clearly see the pale blond hair and pale gray eyes and aristocratic features. He nodded briskly. "Very well," he conceded. "If you are determined to remove Dumbledore-- and I want to make it perfectly clear that I still think that is a mistake!-- then I suppose I can agree to Regalia Malfoy."

Fudge's eyes lit up. "Excellent! Is there any more discussion on the matter?" Of course none of the other Ministers said anything; it was good form, after all, for all the Ministers to support an appointment approved by the Minister who headed the department it affected. "Excellent. Then, shall we vote and be off to our dinners?"

The vote was unanimous. No one had the energy to argue with Fudge that Dumbledore was not a threat to his position, and at least he had a suitable replacement in mind. Perhaps not the best of situations, but better than was to be expected. Humphrey hoped that the worst he was going to have to contend with would be wounded pride on the part of Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress who had been passed up in favor of an outsider.

* * *

August 12  
Hogwarts

"I can't believe this. I _refuse_ to believe it!" Minerva McGonagall had been alternating between irritated pacing and sitting in her chair, drumming her fingers against the table, fuming softly. Just now she was sitting, drumming her fingers.

"Believe it, Minerva, and I don't see how it's so difficult to see when that imbecile is still in the Ministry. Unfortunate that Dumbledore _doesn't_ want his job. He'd make ten times the better Minister of Magic than Cornelius Fudge does. And I'm not sure that assessment isn't insultingly conservative." Severus Snape was calm, at least, even if it was a carefully constructed shell to hide his inner fury. Bloody politicians interfering where they had no business poking their noses.

Minerva was up again, pacing. "Of all the idiotic, irresponsible things to do! Removing Albus at a time like this. If I had Fudge here, I'd give him a piece of my mind to chew on while I beat some sense into his..." she slammed her palm against the table suddenly, making half the room jump. "How _dare_ he put politics above the welfare of our children?"

"Calm down, Minerva. Maybe she won't be so bad. I know it must chafe that they promoted from without but..."

"DO YOU THINK I GIVE A BLODDY RAT'S ASS ABOUT THE PROMOTION, FILIUS?" she screamed. Severus' mood darkened and a scowl curled the corners of his mouth. _He_ bloody well cared. If Minerva had been promoted to Headmistress, then all speculation was that he would have been made Deputy Headmaster, and next in line for Headmaster. He was a patient man, and willing to go through the channels, but it bloody well infuriated him that in addition to removing Dumbledore unjustly, the Ministry had seen fit to look elsewhere for a replacement. It was, of course, the sacking of Dumbledore that was foremost in his mind, and he was fiercely loyal to the old coot. And, even had the proper channels been followed, it would have been enough to enrage him. As it was, though, the fact that the appointment was coming from outside of Hogwarts was salt in an open wound.

"Shhh, shhh. There, now, perhaps it will all work out well in the end." Seria Sprout was smiling hopefully, as only a Hufflepuff could. Severus snorted, making his opinion of _that_ hope perfectly clear.

"Now, you must all admit that I did warn you this would happen and..."

A collective groan interrupted Sybill. "You predict death and destruction at least four times a day, Sybill. What was supposed to make this prediction more noteworthy than any of the others?" At least Sybill's indignation had distracted Minerva for a moment, which was a thankful reprieve.

Clearing his throat softly, Severus drew everyone's attention back to him. "Momentarily disregarding how utterly outrageous the circumstances are, may I suggest we return to discussing what we are going to _do_?"

After a moment, heads bobbed in reluctant nods of agreement. "After that troll Umbridge, I don't think any of us can afford to stand up to anyone new," Minerva pointed out. "Those notes are still in all our records, and I fear they will be permanently."

"You don't honestly think that they make a difference, do you?" This was Poppy Pomfrey, who had been written up four times in that year for telling Draco Malfoy to be about his business somewhere besides the Hospital Wing.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Just to be sure I'm clear on what you are asking, Poppy, you are questioning if the Ministry of Magic--the same Ministry that pulled Dumbledore from his position because they are frightened he will take Fudge's job-- would use negative reports made by their last appointment at Hogwarts to remove a teacher from his or her job here? Certainly not, unless that teacher was a threat." A threat to someone in the Ministry. "Tell me, Poppy, have you your eye on the Ministry of Health?" She glowered at him, and he knew he'd struck a nerve.

"Let's not bicker," Flitwick pleaded. "We have enough against us without causing more problems for ourselves."

Everyone agreed, even Severus, begrudgingly.

"Well, Severus," Minerva looked to the potions master. "Do you know anything about Regalia Malfoy?"

He shook his head with a frown. "I know precisely what you know-- that she has been teaching at Beauxbatons and is some distant relative of Lucius. I even asked him about it, and he couldn't define who she was. He's met her twice, I believe." With a sigh, Severus steepled his hands in his lap. "As for the Malfoys... at their best, they are demanding of quality and possess an innate political skill that is unmatched in any other family. At their worst they are ruthless and manipulative. And your guess is as good as mine as to which of those characteristics this one has." He shrugged slightly. "It is probably in our best interests to be cooperative." Hardly encouraging, but it was all he had to offer.

Minerva snorted. "I have other concerns than my job," she said pointedly, and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you should rethink your priorities, then. If we are all replaced here, who will see to the welfare of the students? Don't be a dunderhead, Minerva. This school needs teachers who are not under the Ministry's thumb, and I guarantee that if they look for a new Transfiguration teacher, it will not be someone so willing to stand up to them. Choose your battles, and worry about the war."

She scowled again, but nodded, seeming to accept the logic behind his words. "Then what do you suggest we do, Severus?" she asked pointedly. "Are we to kiss the ground this Regalia Malfoy walks on?"

A slow, dangerous smile tugged the corners of Severus' lips upward. "Of course not," he replied with a sneer. "But we must be selective about our protesting. Of course, we can make her position quite uncomfortable without jeopardizing ourselves or our positions."

* * *

A/N:

Okay, so this story suddenly popped into my head and I had to start on it... I don't even know where it's going yet. Rating is for language which I'm sure will creep in (because I could make a sailor blush with my swearing) and the genre might change, because I have a habit of making people fall in love, despite my intentions...

But, anyway, read and review! I'm going to try to make this one a bit more plot-oriented than my previous stories.


	2. Chapter 02: Headmistress Malfoy

**--Chapter 2--  
****Headmistress Malfoy**

_August 16_

Severus was the first to arrive in the staff room, which was set up to accommodate the entire faculty in this, the first meeting with the newly appointed Headmistress Regalia Malfoy. He wasn't sure what to expect, but to some extent, that only increased the excitement. And, Merlin help him, he _was_ excited, as only a man who loved the thrill of dancing on a knife's edge could be. His excitement manifested itself only as a glitter to his obsidian eyes, though, and he settled himself into a chair near the foot of the table, positioned so that he could watch Regalia Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge; as he assumed they would be sitting at the head of the table. And he assumed that it would be Fudge at the head, with Malfoy on his right, so Severus positioned himself at the opposite corner.

Minerva was the next to arrive, not five minutes on his heels, and he smiled slightly at the look on her face. She had intended to be the first, and he'd actually underestimated the margin by which she would be early. He'd thought perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, which was why he arrived thirty minutes early, and she surprised him by being there so soon. "Minerva," he said, nodding at her as she took her place at the foot of the table.

"Severus," she returned his nod.

"Has Fudge arrived yet?" he asked softly, and she nodded. "Dobby told me that he'd just walked in the door."

"Excellent," he murmured. "With luck, they'll be here..."

The door opened behind them and Severus smiled slightly, pointedly not turning his head. "Momentarily," he finished, under his breath. Minerva smiled tightly and also kept her eyes trained straight ahead.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape. I hadn't expected to find anyone here so early," Fudge's brief delay in speaking gave truth to that statement; he'd intended to have the upper hand, to be there when everyone else arrived. To make everyone choose their seats relative to him, but now he had to choose his relative to the two teachers. Perfect.

"Wouldn't want to keep you waiting, Minister," Minerva said, her voice formal and stiff, though Severus doubted anyone who didn't know her at least as well he did would have been able to detect the note.

"Very good. Very good. Madame Malfoy, why don't you sit here," he indicated the chair to the right of the head, as Severus had expected, "and we'll just settle in to wait." Fudge pulled the chair for Malfoy, and paused before sitting, and then turned her back to them. Severus found himself holding his breath as she lifted gloved hands and pushed back the hood of her travelling cloak, which was a pale dove gray trimmed in creamy velvet. He could see only the back of her head, which, unsurprisingly, was covered with a silken sheath of pale gold hair that she wore gathered into an elegant style full of graceful curls and tiny braids. It was an elegant coiffure, to be sure, but it would have looked less out of place on a ballroom floor than it did in the staff room of Hogwarts. She turned her head slightly, apparently taking Fudge into her sights for he suddenly moved forward to take her cloak. Severus filed that away in his mind. _Even the Minister of Magic attends her. Interesting._ Her robes were a shade that Severus normally found repulsive-- red. Gryffindor Red, he always thought of it, but for the first time, he found himself looking at the shade with something akin to appreciation in his eyes. This particular shade of red was not so gaudy or ostentatious as the crimson of the Gryffindor Quidditch robes, but it was vibrant, and commanded attention. It was a color evocative of royalty. As she turned around, something happened which Severus did not expect.

He was shocked. It took a great deal to surprise Severus, and more still to shock him, but he was _shocked_. Far from the elegant dowager he had been anticipating, Regalia Malfoy looked to be barely thirty, if she was that old. Severus' eyes swept her lithe form and he had his doubts that her age was as advanced as that. There was no line marring the creamy complexion of her face, no weight of years darkening her blue-gray eyes. And she was breathtaking, though that was hardly a surprise when he considered it. Severus had always thought it rather a shame that Draco Malfoy was a boy; his features would have been so much more attractive on a girl, and now, Severus was faced with the very image of what a female Draco Malfoy might look like at the height of her bloom. High cheekbones, a delicate curve to her jaw, a slender neck and a dainty nose, Regalia was the sort of woman that teenage boys dreamed about when they unconsciously spilled themselves onto their sheets at night. Severus felt a stirring that he wouldn't have believed likely, and wasn't about to admit, but could not deny.

"Well," Fudge said suddenly as Malfoy settled into her chair, "I had intended to introduce everyone at once, but I suppose it would be polite to begin the introductions now. This is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transformation teacher," Severus winced. _Transformation_? That wasn't going to go over well. He slipped a furtive glance at Minerva and coughed politely rather than laughing at the tight expression on her face.

"Madame Malfoy," she said, nodding in the direction of the young woman.

"Professor McGonagall," Malfoy replied in a melodious voice.

"And this," Fudge gestured, "is Severus Snape, potions teacher."

This time, Severus was the one whose features tightened almost imperceptibly. It might seem a small thing to Minister Cornelius, but Severus had worked long and hard for that title. Potions _Master_, not just the Potions _teacher_.

"Professor Snape," she acknowledged, and he heard a slight lilt that was intriguing enough to assuage the wound to his pride that Fudge had dealt. He wanted to make her talk, suddenly, to hear how deeply that velvet caress infiltrated her speech. The three words he'd heard her speak were not enough.

He contented himself with merely watching her, though, as he was likely the most ill-equipped person on staff to be making polite small talk with anyone, least of all a beautiful young woman. _Headmistress!_ he corrected himself sternly. _She may be young and beautiful, but those are hardly admirable qualities in a Headmistress. She needs to be stern, to command respect and authority from students and teachers alike! She needs to be able to put a halt to hexes hurled in the halls, not to look like a stiff wind might blow her over._

"Shall I summon the others to come immediately?" Minerva said suddenly. "They were told ten, but I'm sure I can round them all up five or ten minutes early."

"That won't be nec—" Malfoy began, but Fudge interrupted her.

"Yes, Minerva. I believe that the sooner everyone arrives, the better. I'm a busy man, and I haven't all day for this."

Severus barely refrained from lifting an eyebrow. A busy man who couldn't wait ten minutes for a meeting that _he_ planned to begin at the scheduled time? What was ten minutes going to buy him, anyway? And it was a risky move, speaking for the feminine young Malfoy at such a juncture. The staff wasn't likely to have much faith in anything she did say if she couldn't command respect here, on her own territory. Severus made a mental note to pull her aside and explain to her that she needed to keep as tenacious a grasp as possible on whatever power Fudge allowed her, before he usurped it all. The thought had no more than cleared his mind before he gave himself a mental shake—he was _not_ supposed to be on her side in this matter.

A glance at Minerva said that the Deputy Headmistress was decidedly less concerned about Regalia Malfoy's potential reputation. "Professor?" she said pointedly, raising an eyebrow, and Severus (correctly) interpreted the gesture as an indication that he was to join her in 'rounding up the rest of the staff'.

"Pardon me, Minister. Headmistress," he nodded to each of them in turn, and made careful note of Malfoy's face at being addressed such. There was no flicker of emotion or acknowledgement beyond the inclination of her head. She had a great deal of potential. If she survived this assignment, at least.

Once they were in the corridor, Minerva shut the door firmly and Severus finally faced her, lifting an eyebrow of his own. "I wasn't of the impression that you would need help summoning everyone else," he said softly as they walked. She'd set a painstakingly slow pace, and for a moment, humor flickered across her face.

"I don't," she replied shortly. "Even if I had any intention of bringing everyone together early, which I don't."

"Then why did you offer?" Severus asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, I meant it when I offered, but Fudge's little jab about not having all day…" she scowled. "I have half a mind to dispatch the House Elves to tell everyone to be five minutes _late_."

Severus chuckled softly. "Amusing though that might be, I don't think it's a good idea."

"I know," she muttered. "But a woman can have her fantasies." He snorted softly. "And speaking of fantasies, Severus Snape, I want you to keep yours out of that meeting. We need all the wits we can get in there, and I won't have _your_ serpentine cunning undermined by a one-eyed snake. Is that perfectly clear?"

"What?!" His voice was much more akin to an indignant squeak than he would have preferred, and he stopped, gaping openly at her. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

She snorted this time. "That's why you have drool all over the front of your robe."

"I do not!" he protested, but glanced down surreptitiously. Surely he hadn't…

"Ha! See, you had to check, because you know that you were staring at her like a lovesick boy. You just keep your mind on more important things, and save it for the weekend. Hell, Severus, you keep your wits about you today, and _I'll_ pay for your next foray into London with the woman of your choice."

He scowled. "I ought to hold you to that," he muttered sullenly.

She chuckled. "You do that. Just make sure that you remember who Regalia Malfoy is and don't make a fool of yourself over her."

The nerve. He wanted nothing more than to continue to protest, but he knew that the more he protested, the less credible he seemed, so he gathered his dignity and spoke in a clipped tone. "Of course," he conceded. "But you must allow that she is much more pleasing to look at than anything Hogwarts has had to offer in… well, since before I was a student, at the very least."

To his delight, Minerva shot him a dangerous look. _Touche_, he thought triumphantly. Minerva steered them into her office, and he seated himself in one of the chairs in front of her desk. She glanced at the clock on the mantle of her fireplace, and said, "I suppose we shouldn't waste more than five minutes of Minister Fudge's time before calling the others, what do you think?"

Severus chuckled. It was ten till ten already, and if she waited five minutes, he didn't think they'd gain Fudge a second. "Sounds like an inspired plan to me, Minerva," he replied.

"Firewhiskey?" she offered, reaching for a decanter and a pair of glasses.

"Maybe one shot," he said after a moment, and she splashed a measure of the golden liquid into a glass and handed it to him. When she'd returned to lean against her desk with her own glass in her hand, Severus lifted his in silent toast, and she lifted hers as well. They both tossed the fiery liquid down their throats and sighed, though Severus' sigh was almost a wince. Minerva drank her whiskey as though it were the sweetest and most mellow of wines.

"Well?" she asked after a moment. "What was your impression of her?"

Severus studied his glass for a moment, frowning at the drop of liquid that remained in it and tossing ideas around in his head, discarding each of them in turn. Finally, he leaned forward and placed the glass on the desk. "She's young," he said at last, with something of an apologetic shrug. "I'm afraid I haven't been able to get past how very young she is. When I do, perhaps I'll be of more use."

Minerva snorted softly. "I thought the same thing," she muttered, reaching for the decanter and pouring herself another measure of whiskey, then holding up the bottle in offering to Severus. He lifted a hand to indicate that he didn't want any more. "I'm glad we were there early," Minerva said after another pause. "I shudder to think what nonsense Fudge could have slipped past us while we were recovering from that shock."

"Hrm," Severus replied neutrally, turning over the brief encounter in his mind, looking for other clues. "She seems… I don't know. Nice, perhaps? She was going to tell you not to bother gathering everyone. Perhaps she will have a respect for our time."

"She let Fudge plow right over her. I had hoped that this woman wouldn't be a puppet on Ministry strings, but I have a feeling that was too much to expect."

"Well," Severus speculated slowly, "if she is young and impressionable, maybe we can slip off those Ministry strings and replace them with strings of our own design. She can't possibly have much experience, after all, so who would she turn to besides the Deputy Headmistress?"

Minerva smiled slyly. "Who just happens to be old enough to be her grandmother, and somewhat softhearted?"

Severus shrugged as though the idea hadn't crossed his mind, though that was exactly as he'd been thinking. "A young woman alone in a hostile environment, I'm sure she'll need some support from a… mentor figure."

Laughing softly, Minerva finished off her whiskey. "You might just have a point, Severus." She glanced at the clock, then gathered the two glasses. "I suppose I should make a token effort towards gathering everyone," she said with a sigh, then picked up a fistful of glittering floo powder. She tossed it into the fireplace and called firmly, "The kitchens!" A moment later, she had given the order for the House Elves to find the teachers and have them make their way to the staff room, and then she gestured for Severus to return with her.

When they walked in, Sprout and Flitwick were already there, and Sinastra was rounding the corner. _Excellent,_ Severus thought. They were helping with the pretense already. Within five minutes, everyone had arrived, and, Severus noted with some slight degree of smugness, it was not quite five minutes until ten. Fudge looked as though he might burst a blood vessel.

"Ah, I believe that is everyone," Minerva said as Sybill took her seat, and Fudge nodded briskly.

"Quite," he replied, then cleared his throat. "Well, ah, let me see. I suppose that there is no reason to beat around the bush, so allow me to introduce to you your new Headmistress, Regalia Malfoy. Headmistress Malfoy, this is your faculty, and I'm sure you can learn who they are at a later date… there are really more important things to be discussing just now. Will you take notes, please?"

Severus winced inwardly at the dismissal from Fudge. There were more important things than the faculty, were there? And the Headmistress was to take notes, was she? Very interesting indeed. Malfoy did not argue, though, but merely took out a bottle of ink and uncapped it, then took out a quill. She spread the parchment onto the table and wrote the date neatly on one page, then looked expectantly at Fudge, her rosebud mouth shut. _So young,_ Severus thought.

"Right, then. On to more important matters. First off, I want to address a few points with you all. The Ministry has approved a number of streamlining processes, and I must admit that some of them might come as a surprise to you. For one thing, we are looking at ways to expedite the replacement of staff when positions become available, and we have reached the conclusion that, at least on a trial basis, the Headmistress will have full authority to make changes to the staff as she sees fit, with only my own approval required. You will all note the difference in this policy from previous requirements of approval from the Board of Governors and the Ministry of Education."

Severus frowned, watching as Malfoy dipped her quill in ink and touch it to parchment again and again.

"It is our belief that this new policy will make the transition times much shorter when we have need to add staff to Hogwarts, and I trust that there is nothing objectionable about this new policy?" Fudge glanced up at them, not really giving anyone a chance to speak before looking at his parchment again. "Excellent. Then we move on. The second order of business is with regards to the review process for our teachers. In the past, I'm afraid that Hogwarts has been quite remiss in offering feedback to the staff. Henceforth, each member of the faculty will be reviewed a minimum of four times in each term, though no more than twelve times in a term."

Twelve times in a term? Severus felt his mouth drop open, but that was nothing as compared to the reactions from Sybill and Rolanda. He recovered himself quickly, and glanced at Minerva, whose mouth had tightened into a thin line.

"These reviews will be most beneficial in identifying the strengths and weaknesses of each staff member, as well as giving us a clear idea of the staffing needs of the school. Also, as all increases in salary are based on these reviews, then it is clear that you will all stand to make significantly more money if you are reviewed more often, and that, of course, is not objectionable to anyone either, is it?"

And I suppose that a poor review will result in a decrease of salary, Severus thought sourly, thinking about the pages in his file that were courtesy of Dolores Umbridge and her miserable excuses for observations.

"Forging right ahead then, wonderful. Also, in light of the difficulties we have seen at Hogwarts in recent years, we have determined that there is need for a more stringent process of identifying undesirable staff members. Now, those of you who are exemplary will not even notice the difference, of course, but just to keep you all informed, here is the new policy. A staff member who is found to be lacking in any respect will be written up. After being written up four times, the Headmistress and I have the option of placing that person on notice, after which point we may remove him or her for any infraction. After six months of no infractions, the demerits will be disregarded at a rate of one in every six-month period."

A glance around the table showed more than one carefully guarded expression. This was not going well at all. Not at all. The 'meeting' dragged onward, and, two hours and fifteen new regulations later, Cornelius Fudge finally stood, clasping his hands together. "Wonderful. I feel we've made excellent progress today." No one so much as batted an eyelash. It had been the most demeaning meeting Severus had ever attended, barring none. "If there is no additional discussion, then I propose we adjourn for lunch. Unless, of course, you have anything you wish to add, Headmistress?" He looked at Malfoy for the first time in roughly thirty minutes.

"Yes, Minister Fudge," she said smoothly, and Severus remembered suddenly how velvety her voice was. She did not have an accent, precisely, but her words were lilted with the influence of France. "I do have some things to say. But you look absolutely famished. Why don't you go on and have lunch, and I'll just finish up here."

"Are you sure?" he asked, glancing at the faces which he finally seemed to notice were not precisely friendly-looking at the moment. "Whatever you have can certainly wait until after lunch and…"

"I'm certain," she replied. "You go along. I want to get to know my staff a bit. Go on," she had risen at some point, and all but shooed him from the room, but he was finally gone, and she closed the door with a firm click, then leaned against it, looking at all of them. The silence was nearly deafening, but the seconds ticked by. Severus could see that, one by one, everyone was turning to look at Malfoy, but he was determined not to follow suit. When she took her place again, _then_ he would look at her, but he was _not_ going to swivel around in his chair to regard her.

The minutes stretched on, and, at length, curiosity got the better of him, and he turned, glancing over his shoulder at her. That seemed to be her cue.

"Now that I have your attention," she said softly, "and Fudge is away, I think there are a few more things we need to discuss." She stepped away from the door and walked back to the head of the table, taking her seat there. "Beginning with these," she held up the pages she had been copying for Fudge. "This document has been charmed to be legally and magically binding," she informed them, "and it will require everyone's signature before the day is out. I will pass it around for everyone to read—and _please_ read it—so we may discuss anything on it that needs clarification. And, in the mean time, I would like to know each of your names, because, inefficient though it may be, I tend to disagree with Minister Fudge that there are more 'important' things. So, I'm going to send these pages around this way," she placed the small stack of parchment on the table in front of Sybill, to her left, "and the introductions can begin with you," she nodded to Flitwick on her right.

* * *

A/N: 

LinZE: thanks for the review, and I hope you don't have your heart set on a MM/SS pairing because it isn't happening. They're just colleagues.


	3. Chapter 03: Strings Attached

It took considerably longer for the parchment to make its way around the table than it took for everyone to introduce themselves, so by the time Sybill Trelawney managed to find her name in among all her poetically imprecise proclamations, the notes from Fudge's excuse for a meeting were just resting in Severus' hands. He attempted to feign boredom as he skimmed over the first page, but even the pretense failed as his eyes picked out what sounded alarmingly like _educational decrees_.

The Fourteenth Charter of the United Kingdom Wizarding Community places the responsibility of establishing, organizing, and maintaining educational institutions on the Ministry of Magic. To fulfill this responsibility the Ministry, by statutes, has vested the general administration and supervision of the public schools in a ministry of education composed of five members. The Ministry of Magic, under the authority of Minister Cornelius Fudge, and the Ministry of Education, by decree of loyalty and service to the Ministry of Magic, do hereby recognize and grant the full authority of legislative and executive privilege to the current Headmistress or Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and to the elected Board of Governors. Legally, the Headmaster or Headmistress draws his or her authority directly from the Ministry of Magic, and therefore supercedes any ruling from the Board of Governors.

Severus blinked and took a deep breath, suddenly gaining a new form of respect for a woman who could pen such beaurocratic garble while in a meeting. It was, he noted, very neatly penned at that. There would be no claiming that her writing was illegible. He was tempted to skim through the document, but he didn't dare, and he put his mind to the task of reading every word and _comprehending_ every word. After all, he had no desire to have his signature appended to a magically and legally binding document if he didn't know what it said.

…the Headmaster or Headmistress, or in the absence of the Headmaster or Headmistress a competent appointee by the Ministry of Education, is responsible for the selection and recommendation for employment of all personnel in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Ministry of Education may reject recommendations, but it may employ personnel only on the recommendation of the Headmaster or Headmistress, or of a competent absentee appointee, or of the Minister of Magic…

After re-reading that passage twice, Severus came to the conclusion that he truly wished he had a copy of Hogwarts' charter as Dumbledore had drawn it up. Or better yet, Dumbledore himself. There was most likely a change of some sort in the paragraph he'd just read, but having never bothered to truly study the school charter, he'd no idea what it was. Though something tickled his mind about the recommendations—hadn't that been the sole responsibility of the Headmaster in the past? This 'competent appointee' bit made him rather nervous, and he made a mental note to keep that in mind when he came to a part about the termination of employees.

…in accordance with the European Federation of Magic Ministries Enduring Employment Decree and the United Kingdom Ministry of Magic Reasonable Discharge Statute, all personnel remain on probationary status until continuing service status (tenure) is attained. Professional Instructors (i.e., certified professor) are eligible for tenure upon the completion of three continuous years of service to the school. After tenure has been attained, dismissal must be supported by sufficient evidence that the professional is either incompetent to teach or is a detriment to the school, staff and/or students …

Reading this garbage was going to make him go cross-eyed eventually, he was sure of it. If he'd not misread that passage, it said that anyone who had been teaching for more than three years (and he definitely fell into that category) had tenure, which meant… He skimmed over the last of it again. Tenure apparently meant absolutely nothing. What other reasons were there, after all, for dismissing a teacher? Incompetence and 'detriment to the school, staff and/or students'. Extraordinarily vague, in his opinion. Frighteningly so, in fact. He could almost see himself being declared a 'detriment' because he scowled at people.

…the system of evaluation provides for enhancing teaching skills, knowledge of subject matter being taught and knowledge of new/innovative methods of instruction. Evaluations will be conducted a minimum of four times each term, and shall not exceed twelve times in any single term. Continued employment is contingent upon removal of serious deficiencies in these areas…

So, in other words, after any of the _twelve_ reviews he might be forced to endure over the course of a single term, his job could be on the line. Severus was beginning to wonder if he could 'accidentally' set this parchment on fire.

…in accordance with the Edict 17-A.5589-15B in the Charter of the Ministry of Magic, the Ministry of Education may suspend or dismiss any teacher, staff member, or other regular employee so appointed on the written recommendation of the Headmaster or Headmistress of the school, for immorality, misconduct in office, incompetence, willful neglect of duty, or when, in the opinion of the Ministry, the best interests of the schools may require, subject to the provisions of the Edict referred to in the preceding paragraph…

Severus could almost feel his job slipping away. This document was riddled with ways for the Ministry to terminate the employment of any member of the staff, and Severus had little doubt that he would be at the top of Cornelius Fudge's list, given what the Minister knew of him. Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Severus continued to read the document.

It stretched on for three pages. Three pages of gibberish that all boiled down to one simple fact—Regalia Malfoy would be holding all their livelihoods and futures in a string between her fingertips, and they were all going to be subject to her slightest whim. By the time he passed the parchment to Minerva, Severus felt positively numb, and he wished he could have some more of that Firewhiskey.

"So," Severus began in one of his signature silky tones. "If we do not sign this," he waved a hand at the parchment, "what happens?"

"You will be dismissed for failure to cooperate with Ministry decrees," Malfoy answered promptly. There was no hint of beating about the bush. "I would advise you to sign it."

"Then why should we bother with each of us reading it individually?" Minerva asked, peering over the top of her glasses at the new Headmistress. "We've no choice but to sign it, it would seem, and we can all take a copy of it to peruse at our leisure after the fact."

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow in an almost eerie imitation of Lucius. "Do you wish to sign a legally and magically binding document which you have not read?" she asked, her voice clearly implying that she thought this suggestion was the height of ridiculous.

Minerva adjusted the parchment in her hand and began reading aloud. "The Fourteenth Charter of the United Kingdom Wizarding Community places the responsibility of establishing…" Severus stifled a yawn at hearing the words he had just finished reading, but reminded himself that this was the lesser of the evils. If it were not read aloud, it would take at least another half hour for the parchment to make its way around the table. He schooled his expression to one of impassive disinterest while Minerva repeated the decrees, one at a time, regarding the hiring, evaluation and dismissal of staff. By the time she reached the last paragraph, there was more than one tight expression around the table.

"Well?" Minerva asked, taking off her spectacles and folding them in her hand. "Does anyone _not_ understand what we are being asked to sign?" The question was greeted only with silence. "Does anyone _not_ understand the consequences of not signing this document?" Again there was silence. "Very well, then." She dipped her quill in the small jar of ink in front of her, and a moment later, her signature was slanting across the page.

After a brief hesitation, Severus reached for the parchment and scrawled his own name in cramped, small, jagged letters. Pomona signed it next, and then Sybill, then Rolanda. Filius and Binns were next, A moment later, Hagrid scrawled his name onto the parchment, and he was the last of them. There was more than one resentful face around the table, and, though Malfoy seemed to have won this round, Severus had his doubts that she would win the next so cleanly.

"Very good, then," she said, glancing through the parchment quickly and then applying her signature to the last page. "Now that we have that taken care of, there are a few more things I wish to discuss with you all. First, I have been looking over the scheduling for the upcoming term, and I must say it is simply atrocious. I've been working on re-distributing classes a bit, and I think I've come to a conclusion that should alleviate some of the load. These," she held up several pages of parchment, "are copies of the revised schedule. Look over it, please, and if you have any significant objections to it, please make note of them so we may address them later. These are your copies so feel free to make notes on them. Also, Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, Sprout, Snape, I have the House Schedules drawn up. I'll need you to look over them as well."

Severus now had three sheets of parchment in his hands, and Malfoy was pulling another thick stack from her folder. Charms indeed.

"I have also been going over the OWL and NEWT scores for the last ten years, and I've found some interesting patterns in them. Fair warning, I will want to be discussing the students' records with each of you individually, so you might wish to look over the OWL and NEWT results for your subject for the last ten years or so."

Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then scrawled himself a note to himself to pull his students' records for the last decade. That, at least, would not be a problem for him; his organization system, while complex, was flawless.

"I also need to schedule meeting times with each of you, so I'm going to pass around this schedule for the next five days. I need each of you to write yourself in for a time that is convenient—hour and a half blocks, please. You four," she indicated the Heads of Houses, "I need you to schedule yourselves for either a single two-and-a-half-hour blocks or two hour-and-a-half blocks. Professor McGonagall, I need an additional two hours from you as well, preferably later in the week than your initial meeting. Professor Snape, I need an extra hour and a half from you, as well. Professor Hagrid, I need an extra hour from you as well."

Severus pinched his nose. That was… four hours she wanted? Or five? He sighed and looked at the blank schedule in McGonagall's hands; at least everyone had had the sense to let the Heads schedule their times first since they had need of such bloody big blocks. He watched as Minerva neatly blocked off the time from 12:30 until 3:00 Monday, and then from 9:00 until 11:00 on Wednesday. He traded a furtive glance with the Head of Gryffindor, then blocked himself in for Monday from 10:00 till 12:30 and again from 6:00 till 7:00. Even if no one else joined in, he and Minerva were going to manage to tie up the Headmistress' _entire_ day tomorrow, it seemed. There was certainly no time for lunch in that tight block.

Passing the parchment to Pomona, Severus couldn't quite stop a smile as she blocked herself in from 11:00 to 1:30 on Tuesday, and then Flitwick scheduled himself immediately prior to that, from 8:30 to 11:00. One by one, the rest of the teachers kept innocent expressions on themselves as they blocked out their hour and a half meetings with the new Headmistress, not leaving so much as a fifteen minute break in the meetings all day long on either Monday or Tuesday. When the schedule was passed down to Malfoy again, Severus watched intently as she read over it, nodding.

Not a flicker of a reaction on her face. If she was surprised at the staff meetings now scheduled from 7:00 in the morning until 7:00 in the evening for the next two days, she didn't show it. "Very good," she replied, frowning slightly. A frown of concentration, though, Severus was certain. She was taking this entirely too well. "I'm going to go ahead and schedule another meeting with the entire staff on…" she studied the schedule for a moment, and then nodded, seeming to have decided something. "On Thursday. From one to four." Severus' scowl deepened. Another three hours of meeting. He was already tired of the meetings, and they hadn't even begun yet.

"And, I think I'll… yes." She made a sweeping motion with her quill and seemed to block off an entire day. "Very good. Did everyone make note of their meeting times?" She glanced around the table, and her eyes landed on Vector. "7:00 on Monday?" she asked, and Vector nodded. "Professor Sinastra…" her eyes drifted around the table and then landed on the dark-haired astronomy professor. "Tomorrow at 8:45. Professor Snape," those gray eyes sought out his, and she smiled tightly. "10:15."

Severus' eyes narrowed. He'd blocked himself for 10:30. Before he could protest, though, Malfoy was reminding Minerva that her meeting was at 12:45. Fifteen minutes later than Minerva had scheduled herself. The Headmistress was moving everyone's meeting time forward by fifteen minutes, effectively scheduling herself breaks between each of them. Shrewd. On some level, he respected that, even if it did foil their plans.

"Too smart for her own good," Minerva murmured, and Severus snorted softly.

"I don't anticipate that any of these meetings will last more than an hour," she informed them, "and, as a general note, I am going to want to discuss NEWT and OWL scores with each of you, and I want you to bring along a list of anything you need in your classroom for the coming year. Supplies, repairs, anything you would like to address regarding your classes and classrooms. And I want to know what you _want_, let me worry about what you can have and what is in the budget." Malfoy stood, smoothing her ruby-colored velvet robes. "It has been a pleasure to meet all of you. Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, remain please. The rest of you enjoy your lunch."

Severus kept his eyes trained on the parchment on the table in front of him as his colleagues filed out of the room, and silence reigned for a long moment afterward, until Malfoy finally shut the door.

"From each of you, I will want to hear what needs your Houses have, and any concerns you have regarding their education. I will also need an inventory of the dormitory rooms, and a list of repairs and purchases that need to be made. I have allotted each of you an additional hour simply because I feel you will have more concerns to address, since you have not only your classes, but the students in your Houses to worry over. You needn't prepare any truly detailed information for me for this meeting, but do keep your schedule open on Thursday morning, please, as my instinct tells me that the five of us will be meeting again before the end of the week. I'll make that official after I've had a chance to speak with each of you individually. Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, you may both go."

Spoken like a true Malfoy. The dismissal was obvious in her voice, and it brooked no argument. They were as good as servants receiving their orders. Even the good-natured Pomona Sprout seemed miffed by the casual dismissal. When it was merely Minerva and Severus left in the room, Malfoy regarded them both with a cool, confident expression. "Professor McGonagall," she began, "I'm going to wish to discuss a few points of school tradition and needs with you. That is your additional meeting. I don't think you'll need to do any additional preparations for it; it's mostly for my benefit, as I anticipate having a number of questions after having met with everyone else. If there is anything specific you need to discuss, that's fine of course, I just wanted to assure you that I've nothing specific planned for it."

She turned slowly to Severus, regarding him with a discerning eye. "And, Professor Snape," she said softly, and he made a point not to look too interested. "The additional hour you scheduled is to discuss this," she reached into that flat folder that contained enough parchment to put the Ministry of Magic to shame. Severus frowned slightly and reached for the page, glancing over it.

It was his latest request to be considered for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. He offered it back to her, not daring to let his hopes rise.

"Be prepared to convince me, Professor Snape," she told him, and it had the sound of a suggestion. "I am an open-minded woman."

Raising an eyebrow, Severus nodded. "Of course, Headmistress."

"Very well, then. You may both go. Enjoy your lunch," she told them. "I suppose I'd best go find out what Minister Fudge is into."

Severus snorted softly, and, carefully avoiding Minerva's eyes, he leaned his head to the side. "Do you know the way to the Great Hall, Headmistress? The corridors can be quite confusing at times."

She smiled, a distant smile that any Malfoy would have been proud of. "I believe I can find my way, Professor. But thank you all the same." She inclined her head gracefully, and gathered her folder, quill, parchment and cloak, and then slipped past Severus and McGonagall and into the corridor. Severus couldn't help but watch the seductive sway of her hips as she walked down the hall.

"Will you please try to control yourself, Severus?" Minerva asked sharply. "First you're drooling over her pretty face and now you're making a fool of yourself in an attempt to win that Defense position. _Remember who she is_," this was accompanied by a firm finger in his chest, "_and remember who still holds her strings._"


	4. Chapter 04: For the birds

At 9:30 the following morning, Severus was in the staff room, settled into a chair, idly reading the Prophet as though he normally spent his mornings pouring over whatever drivel those excuses for reporters saw fit to include on the front page. Across the room, Minerva was similarly engaged, though her reading material of choice was a catalogue of dress robes, if the picture on the cover was any indication. That they were both in the same room where Tempora Vector was calmly finishing what must have been a scintillating article about the four-dimensional nature of matter was surely a coincidence, and it had, of course, nothing at all to do with that fact that Esther Sinastra was, in all likelihood, working her charms to extend her meeting with Headmistress Malfoy. That was the plan they had conjured last night—that they would each try to draw out their meetings by an extra half hour. The plan had nothing to do with plots against the Headmistress, of course; it was simply a matter of addressing all their concerns.

Severus had a folded parchment with enough 'concerns' listed on it to occupy any fool's time for the next four hours. And if Regalia Malfoy missed her lunch because of him... well, wouldn't that be a shame?

After the meeting with Fudge and Malfoy yesterday, the Hogwarts teachers had congregated in Minerva's office and exchanged opinions about the new Headmistress. Most of the staff was of the same impression of the woman—she was very young. It was quite difficult to move past that particular shock. Pomona had suggested, if somewhat hesitantly, that they had underestimated the woman's shrewdness, but the idea had been dismissed out of hand. Severus had been most vehement in his opposition to that nonsense. "Regalia Malfoy," he had told them in no uncertain terms, "is a beautiful young woman. But that is the extent of it. She is young, and she is beautiful, and she is a Malfoy. I don't think there is much to worry about from her."

And, the evidence so far supported his argument. That she was young and beautiful were without question; that she was a Malfoy, with all the baggage and clout that name carried, was never doubted. That there was nothing to worry about... Well. That remained to be seen, of course, but so far they had a fair indication of her. She was, of course, bright, and had been a step ahead of them at the meeting. And she'd been rather _convincing_ with regards to the document she'd written for Fudge (of course, a _puffskein_ could have convinced the staff of the benefit of signing that document. None of the _staff_, at least, was stupid.) After that meeting, though, they'd not seen hide nor hair of Regalia Malfoy for the rest of the evening. Which left them all plenty of time to plot.

The door suddenly banged open and in flounced Esther, her pretty features marred by a scowl. "You should all be thankful that I'm not as ruthless as some in this room," she announced, the direction of her gaze naming Severus as the accused. "I'm going to share my experience—don't try to extend your time with her unless you really want to talk to her longer. I just came out with _another_ meeting scheduled for tomorrow, to 'discuss the topics we didn't address today'." Rolling her eyes, she fell gracelessly into a chair. "I think she's more cunning than you gave her credit for, Severus," she said after a moment. "I really think the purpose of these meetings is to wear down our defenses."

Severus snorted softly. "If that's all it takes to wear down your resolve, perhaps she is a bit much for you." He set aside his copy of the Prophet and finished off his tea, then stood, stretching languidly. "I suppose it's my turn then. If you ladies will excuse me," he sketched a bow to the room at large and slipped out into the corridor to make his way up to the tower that housed the Headmistress' office. A tower he had often visited Dumbledore in. He arrived at the gargoyle guardian and for a moment, he felt his throat go dry.

"Butter toffee," he murmured to the gargoyle, and knew he shouldn't have been surprised when it didn't move. "Lemon sherbet," he tried again. Once again, no result. "Cherry gumdrop."

"I take it Professor Dumbledore had something of a sweet tooth," came a voice behind him, and Severus found a moment of relief that he was not given to blushing. "Willow Warbler," she intoned to the gargoyle, and it began to move, twisting aside to reveal a spiral staircase. She gestured towards the stairs with a slender hand, and he stepped onto them, then she followed close behind. As the stairs began to move, Severus was acutely aware of how close she was, and how she smelled faintly of a warm, fresh scent.

Today, Malfoy was dressed in royal blue, and her blue-Grey eyes picked up the rich, sapphire hues of her robe. She wore her hair long, the ends curling about her shoulders and down her back, the sides pulled away from her face and secured with a pair of simple silver combs. A string of pearls graced her slender throat, and pearl teardrops dangled daintily from her ears, accentuating the fine contour of her jaw. She was a vision once again, he decided. Blue, it seemed, suited her as stunningly as the crimson had the day before.

_Remember who she is, and remember who still holds her strings._ Minerva's warning echoed in his ears, and he carefully blocked out her scent, and the velvety song of her voice, and the graceful line of her neck, and the gentle fullness of her lips. _And more to the point,_ he chided himself, _remember who you are. You are no one that a woman like her would look twice at, even if you were interested in capturing her attention._

The staircase came to a silent halt, and Severus stepped into the antechamber, his breath catching in his throat as he found himself hoping that she had not spent last evening turning it into a frilly tea parlor. He hadn't quite worked up the courage to look around when something suddenly swooped past his left ear, crying sharply "Love all! Love all! Trust all, love few!"

For a moment, Severus thought it was Peeves, but the swooping being was too solid to be the poltergeist. A moment later, a blur of crimson and azure swept past again, and came to a graceful perch on Malfoy's hand. "Tsk, Saidah," she murmured, rubbing the beak of what Severus now realized to be a brightly colored bird. "Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none."

"Love wrong few!" the bird replied, and took flight again, leaving Malfoy to shake her head.

"Saidah is one of my more playful pets," she offered by way of explanation as the bird came to a perch on one of the bookshelves and settled in, casting a calculating look at Severus. He had the impression he was being weighed as surely as Fawkes had ever peered into his heart. "She's really quite intelligent, and a stunning mimic when she wants to be. But she likes some words better than others, and doesn't particularly care to keep Shakespearean quotes in tact."

A fluttering against his elbow made Severus flinch slightly, and then his eyes widened marginally at Malfoy's hand on his arm. "Come in, Professor Snape," she invited. "Have a seat." She indicated a comfortable-looking wingback chair which sat at an angle to a second, identical one. Both were upholstered in jade-green velvet, and between them, there sat a round table with a tray of tea. Severus sank into the proffered chair, watching Malfoy as she sat in the other one.

She reached for a thin folder on the table, and opened it in her lap, picking up her quill and dipping it into a small jar of ink. "Help yourself to tea, Professor Snape," she invited, writing as she spoke. "And tell me, would you prefer to begin this meeting as Professor Snape, Potions Master, or as Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin?" She moved a thick curl of pale golden hair over her shoulder and her quill paused.

_How about Severus Snape, cow-eyed fool?_ he thought, forcing his eyes away from her hair. She was truly beautiful, and sitting so near a beautiful young woman served only to remind him how very empty his bed had been for a number of years. _Pull yourself together, you dunderhead,_ he scolded himself. _Minerva was right._ "Let's begin with Potions Master," he said calmly. Far more calmly than he felt.

"Very well," she nodded, and picked a thick packet of parchment from that charmed folder. "I've been looking over the OWL results for potions for the last ten years, and I must say that your record is impressive, Professor. Every student has scored at least an 'Acceptable' in the past ten years, and an abnormally high number have even achieved 'Outstanding'. One might wonder what your secret is." She glanced up at him, a delicately arched eyebrow raised in question. He was clearly supposed to respond to that.

"I find that letting my students know what I expect of them is a distinctively effective approach," he replied smoothly, as though he was not aware that his customary speech to his Fifth Year students, laced with vague, implied threats, was enough to frighten the little buggers into passing their OWLs.

"Indeed," she replied, somewhat distantly. Her quill was writing at a steady pace. "But surely expectations alone do not produce such results."

_What are you after, Malfoy?_ "I expect a great deal from my students, Headmistress, and they are well aware of it. I teach as though they live up to my expectations. They either meet my high standards, or they fail, and failure is not an option for many of them. Students will achieve what they are told to achieve, provided it is reasonable." He had hardly anticipated discussing his teaching philosophy with the Headmistress, but if that was what she wished, far be it from him to deny her the pleasure.

"And on what criteria do you base your standards?" she asked, looking up at him, her head tilted to one side.

"It is based largely on fifteen years of experience, Headmistress," he replied wryly, a gentle reminder that he'd likely already been teaching when she bought her first wand. "Experience, and careful observation and record-keeping. There are always a few students who could achieve more, and a few I know will be left behind if I do not prod them along like cattle, but by and large, all Fourth Year students will be in the same place, particularly since I have such direct control over what they learned in First, Second and Third Year. And given that I exceed the Ministry's demands for the curriculum and for the OWLs, I have never been questioned about my methods."

Her lips curved briefly into a smile, and he knew she'd caught the barb. It obviously did not impress her, though, as she made no comment regarding it. "Very well, then. I have also been looking over the accident reports that have been filed in the past ten years," she began, placing the packet of parchment she'd been holding back into the folder, and removing another thick packet. He cringed inwardly, already beginning his defense. Potion-making was a dangerous subject, and the only reason there were so many accident reports was that he was more fastidious about the filing of them than most of his colleagues were. He knew for a fact that Flitwick did not file all _his_ accident reports, yet Severus dutifully filled out a report every time Longbottom melted his cauldron.

"A significant number of incidents," she was saying, "but few real injuries."

"Accidents are unavoidable, Headmistress," he replied stiffly, "particularly when one is working with forty children and twenty cauldrons at a time. Injuries, however, can generally be prevented, or minimized, with prior preparation."

"Certainly," she nodded, peering at one report which seemed particularly interesting to her. "Prior preparation such as keeping antidotes on hand, I presume?"

He was at a decided disadvantage, not knowing exactly what she was referring to. "I keep antidotes ready for all the potions we brew," he replied cautiously, "as well as antidotes for the most common mistakes. And some for the more dangerous mistakes I have seen. It would be impossible to be prepared for _all_ eventualities, though."

"Of course."

He was quiet for a long moment, waiting for her to say more, but she merely sat there, her quill scritching softly against parchment. "I can honestly say I have never been caught unprepared in the same way twice, though," he offered, his brow creasing slightly as he watched her quill. What was she writing? He was growing increasingly nervous. After the Troll and her reports, Severus could only imagine what nonsense this puppet was penning about him. He suddenly wished he'd taken a few more minutes with his appearance this morning. He would never be attractive, by any stretch of the imagination, but he _could_ do something about the state of his hair when he put himself to the task.

After a long silence, her quill finally stopped moving and she replaced the parchment into the folder once more, and withdrew more. Severus nearly groaned in frustration, wondering how much parchment was _in_ that folder.

"I have also been studying your past reviews, Professor Snape," she began, and he grimaced. He might as well hand in his resignation now. "Professor Dumbledore spoke highly of you." She glanced up at him, and he determinedly schooled his expression to a mild look of surprise, keeping his mouth shut firmly. "Professor Umbridge, on the other hand, saw fit to place you on probation."

Severus' lips tightened, and he resisted the impulse to retort that _Professor_ Umbridge was a conniving little troll, and one who with the mental capacity of a gnat. He kept carefully quiet.

After a long pause, Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "This is the part where you're supposed to tell me what happened and why her actions were unjustified."

"I am certain, Headmistress, that Professor Umbridge felt _quite_ justified in her ruling," he answered acerbically.

"Then what did you do to deserve such a harsh reprimand?"

Had he been able to see himself in a mirror just then, Severus would have seen eyes narrowed to focus on the Headmistress with beady onyx intensity. "I had the audacity to have failed to anticipate her need for a controlled potion which requires a month to brew," he replied in a clipped, icy tone.

Malfoy made a noise that would have sounded suspiciously like a snort had it not come from such a beautiful woman. "So, in other words, she was being her usual, pleasant, petulant self?" she asked, and Severus blinked. "Don't worry, Professor. There is no love lost between Dolores Umbridge and myself."

He repressed the desire to make a commiserating comment; after all, he had no idea whether or not Malfoy was speaking the truth, but he thought it in his best interest to assume she was trying to bait him into making comments about the Troll. Yet, he was obviously expected to reply somehow. "I would be lying if I said I was always in agreement with her."

"And, what is your opinion of Professor Dumbledore's praise of you? Is it justified?"

"Some of it likely is," he replied, then mentally cursed himself for a fool. Why hadn't he just said that of course it was justified? "The Headmaster—Professor Dumbledore—was quite loyal to the entire staff," Severus offered by way of explanation. "He tended to laud us all, and, I suspect most of the praise is justified, though he often turned a blind eye and a deaf ear."

Malfoy nodded slowly. "Thank you for being so frank, Professor Snape," she said softly. "Though if Professor Dumbledore was loyal to the staff, I daresay the loyalty is returned."

"Quite." He knew he was treading on thin ice, but for the moment, he didn't precisely care. She placed the parchment back in the folder, and then put down her quill and placed the folder aside, folding her hands in her lap.

"Will you speak plainly with me, Professor?" she asked.

Normally, he would not have so much as hesitated, but this time, he did. "I will speak honestly," he replied after a moment, and vowed to himself that he would do just that.

"I suppose that I can tolerate honesty in lieu of openness," she replied. "But I would ask you to decline to answer rather than to mislead me, in that case."

"Very well," he replied, mentally rehearsing ways to gracefully decline.

"Is the staff going to sabotage the school in protest of my being here?" she asked bluntly.

"No," he replied, without pause. "We all care too much for the school and the students." This wasn't to say, of course, that they would not sabotage _her_. "We all have the school's best interests in mind. The school and the students."

"Then we have common ground, Professor Snape. But I sense resistance from the faculty."

"Was that a question?"

"An observation."

"Then you will forgive me for not responding."

She snorted again, and this time he was sure it _was_ a snort. "Very well," she said, taking up her quill and folder again. "What needs have you in your classroom?"

He folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow. "None that I cannot see to myself," he replied.

"You have all the supplies you need?" she prodded. "No rickety shelves, no cauldrons in need of replacing?"

"The students supply their own cauldrons, Headmistress, and the bookshelves are in excellent repair, as students are not allowed to touch them."

"Scales?" she prompted. "Stools? Ingredients? Chalk?"

He shook his head firmly. "No, Headmistress. I see to my classes' needs myself. My standards are far too exacting to trust anyone else with the procuring of any supplies."

She nodded and her quill was flying across parchment again. "If you prefer it, then, I will see that a budget is approved for you. To at least help defray the costs you seem to be defraying on your own at the moment."

For the second time, he was stunned beyond speech. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Not at all," she replied, then looked up at him. "Believe it or not, Professor, I am on your side."

"Pardon me if I refrain from comment."

"Certainly," she replied, making another sweep of her quill. "Is there anything else I need to know?" she asked him, and he snorted softly.

"There is much you need to know, but I fear I will not be the one to tell you."

She laughed softly. "I'm sure you could teach me much more than I bargained for," she replied, and suddenly he remembered how stunningly beautiful she was. He'd managed to forget, to think of her simply as the Headmistress and he a teacher on her faculty. He'd been so caught up in their discussion, that he had momentarily forgotten that she was young, with a beautiful face and a cloud of silken hair that begged to be touched. He could almost imagine the feel of her hair in his hands, but the idea of touching that silken mane was almost blasphemy to his mind.

He looked pointedly away from her, and allowed his gaze to settle onto the emerald green bird perched on the shelf behind her. He idly wondered when the bird had moved; he certainly hadn't seen it fluttering past, and surely something so colorful would have caught his eye. Generally, almost anything caught his eye when it moved; Severus had senses long since honed to subtle changes by his years staring into a cauldron, watching for a reaction. He had an awareness of his environment that came from years of walking a fine line between service to Dumbledore and service to Voldemort.

He frowned slightly at the bird. Hadn't that bird been red before...? He glanced at the shelf where the bird had settled before, and realized with a start that the red and blue bird was still there, and had been joined by another large bird, this one blue with a brilliant golden breast and throat.

"Just how many birds do you have?" he asked suddenly, looking at Malfoy.

A smile still touched her lips. "Twenty-seven," she replied, and he thought his eyes might roll out of his head. "They're truly brilliant companions. Let's see... you've met Saidah... the green one up there," she pointed, "is Alejandro. The blue and gold one over there," she pointed again, "is Makan—he's a macaw. Erm..." she looked around the room as though searching for another and frowning slightly. "I don't know where Rohit is... and I don't see Teshi anywhere."

"You have twenty seven birds and they all have names?" _Hagrid will love her._

"Of course they all have names," she replied, as though he'd shown surprise that the sky was blue. "How else could I keep up with them?"

"How indeed." _More to the point, **why** do you have so many birds?_ "Do they all fly about freely?" he asked, glancing around, a hand instinctively moving to the top of his head to assure himself that there were no 'surprises' in his hair.

"Oh no," she replied, shaking her head. "Just the five. Most of the rest of them are parakeets and love birds. Very sweet little things, but in much greater need of protection. Would you like to meet them?"

Severus very nearly laughed at the thought. No, he didn't want to meet the birds. He didn't want anything to do with the birds. Those wretched owls swooping through the Great Hall were bad enough, and Fawkes was tolerable, but _twenty-seven_ exotic birds? He had a sudden mental image of a flock invading the corridors and giving Peeves a run for his money. "Another time, perhaps," he replied aloud, thinking it best to keep his opinions of the birds to himself.

"Very well," she replied, her quill once again poised to write. "Then perhaps it is time for a conversation with Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin."

* * *

A/N:

Yukka-- hold that thought re: Lucius and Regalia. There is a side plot there, that I intend to weave in just a bit of. I seriously drew out a family tree so I could see their connection.

MA-- don't worry, I don't think Regalia is exactly what anyone is expecting. Incidentally, this story was inspired by real life. My supervisor retired over the summer, and she was VERY popular in our department, and we were all fiercely loyal to her. So, I think perhaps I'm letting office politics seep into this a good bit.

Sior-- lol. I'm sure you'll be able to find plenty to dislike.

Thanks all of you for the reviews. It was those reviews that made me decide to continue writing, because I'd shoved this one to the backburner. It's earned a more prominent spot in my priorities now, though.


	5. Chapter 05: With friends like these

"Thank you for your time, Professor. Good afternoon."

It was 2:45 when Minerva left the new Headmistress' office, the same office that Albus had occupied for better than twenty-five years, and she was glad to be leaving. She did not approve of the birds that kept swooping from shelves and chattering noisily. She did not approve of the color scheme that the young Malfoy witch had chosen. She most certainly did not approve of the jungle that the fair-haired woman had coaxed out of the walls and floor, though she did have to admit that she was impressed by it.

And she was marginally impressed by that folder. Such a slender, inconspicuous looking folder, but it seemed that Regalia Malfoy carried an entire filing cabinet's worth of papers in it, and knew precisely where everything was. She was a formidable woman, and even if Minerva didn't like her and didn't approve of her, she had a feeling that she wasn't going to be able to bring herself to disrespect the new Headmistress, if for no other reason than it seemed as though it would be a colossally bad idea.

_And what is your primary objection, Minerva? Her age, her beauty, the fact that she's a Malfoy or the fact that she is here to replace Albus?_ Minerva didn't have an answer for that question, though she knew she was going to need to find one before long. Preferably before classes started. She needed to find the answer and find a way to get around it.

Already, Minerva had two more meetings scheduled with the Headmistress—one on Wednesday morning and another on Thursday afternoon. And Malfoy had intimated that she would want to speak with the four Heads of Houses some time before the end of the week. Perhaps that was why Minerva disliked Regalia Malfoy so much—she seemed to have a great love of scheduling meetings.

Of course, Minerva knew that there were many things that needed discussion, and, as Deputy Headmistress, it was certainly her duty to see that the new Headmistress was aware of all the problems in the school, from discipline issues to disagreements among the staff, from necessary repairs to the temperaments of the various portraits. There was much to be done still in this window of opportunity before the students started pouring in again, and Minerva was fully aware that she would be spending most of her time in the same manner if Albus were still here.

With a sigh, Minerva lifted her bony fingers to her head and massaged at her temples, pausing as she left the spiraling staircase to the Headmistress' office. After a moment's contemplation, she headed, not to her own office and classroom, but downstairs, towards the dungeons. She needed to talk with Severus, to compare notes, to find out what he had discovered that she had not.

Her head was swimming as she made her way down to the dungeons, barely cognizant of passing Rolanda Hooch pacing near the main entrance. _And what are you so nervous about?_ she thought sourly as she watched the flying instructor attempt to wear the floorstones smooth. Of course, Minerva could only imagine—Rolanda had been the instructor in charge when more students had been injured than any other instructor at Hogwarts. Of course, given the subject she taught, that was to be expected; every student at Hogwarts fell off his or her broom at one point or another, and the Quidditch players, well, they were infamous for being injured. It was to be expected. It was to be excused! Rolanda Hooch was a wonderful teacher, caring and compassionate, and if students did fall off their brooms in her class, she was always quick to see the injured student to the hospital wing for treatment. She was well-trained in first aid and crisis management, and, really, it took a certain steel nerve to teach twenty children at a time to fly.

Rolanda Hooch was a wonderful teacher, and Minerva made the silent vow that she would not stand idly aside and see the witch sacked without a _damn_ good reason.

By the time she reached the dungeons, Minerva had worked herself into a regular frenzy, and as she stalked, uninvited and unannounced, into Severus' office, her first words, without preamble, were, "If that bitch fires Rolanda she's going to have me to contend with." This was spoken plaintively enough, apparently, that Severus deigned to raise an eyebrow.

"Is that a concern?" he asked, gesturing sardonically towards the chair that Minerva was already claiming for her own. The Deputy Headmistress' eyes narrowed.

"It is always a concern, Severus, and if I were you I doubt I would be so secure in my future at Hogwarts, either," she replied testily.

A flicker of something, impatience perhaps, or maybe worry, crossed his face momentarily. "Is it an immediate concern?" he asked, this time his voice seeming to carry a bit more of the proper appreciation for the gravity of the situation. "Did she say something to you to prompt such a fierce mother-hen reaction?"

"Well, no. Nothing specific. But if you will remember that Umbridge troll..."

"I remember her quite distinctly, thank you, despite repeated attempts to forget last year all together."

"Then you remember that you were one of the ones she placed on probation, and you haven't much room to be dancing around on the line between gainfully employed and dismissed with no references!"

Severus leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, a defensive posture Minerva recognized from years of working with him. "Indeed?" he asked softly. "If I didn't know better, Minerva, I might think that a threat."

"I'm not saying it isn't," she replied cryptically. "Though I hope you know the threat isn't from me."

For a long moment, Severus was silent, watching her like a crow standing sentinel over a graveyard. A long finger absently traced his lips, a sign that he was thinking, and he regarded her, unblinking and unflinching, with those beetle-like eyes. Trying to read Severus Snape when he did not wish to be read was rather like trying to wade through a marsh wearing velvet slippers-- it could be done, but was seldom worth the effort.

"Is it because she is so young?" he asked finally. "She is barely older than I was when I began teaching. Twenty-five? Twenty-six perhaps?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Severus stood and walked over to his sideboard, taking down a pair of cups, a pot of hot water and a canister of tea leaves. He placed these on the desk, and then retrieved a pair of spoons and a small bowl of sugar. Careful movements, with a feline grace, and Minerva knew he was still thinking. Not waffling over what to say, she was sure, as he never seemed to care if his words lacked tact, but rather a silence as he continued to compile information and assimilate it into knowledge. "I believe you do," he replied finally, sitting again. "You have a reason that you do not like the new Headmistress, and you are digging for reasons to justify it. If she dismisses staff members, you will have found your reason, am I right? But as yet, you simply do not like her."

"And you do." She couldn't quite keep the accusatory tone at bay.

"I have not decided whether or not I like her," he replied neutrally. "And that is immaterial. She is here, and she has the authority to make us miserable, or to make us regret our decisions. She is a formidable woman, Minerva, and whether you like her or not, I advise you to keep in mind that she is not the sort you would want for an enemy."

_And since when are you an expert on keeping your personal feelings out of professional relationships?_ she thought irately. He smirked, and she scowled. "You know I wish you wouldn't do that," she told him icily, and he laughed softly.

"And I could nod and promise not to and you would never know the difference," he replied smoothly.

"You are a man of honor, and I would accept your word on the matter."

He lifted an eyebrow. "You are many things, Minerva, but you are no fool. Don't make such foolish statements."

She knew him to be an honorable man, though, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but there were more crucial discussions for them to be having now. "Is that your official opinion of her, then? She is a formidable woman, and not one you wish for an enemy? Will you be kissing the ground at her feet, then?"

His eyes darkened. "You should know better than that," he replied, his voice colder suddenly. "And I did not suggest that we grovel at her feet. Nor that we indulge her every whim."

"Then what are you suggesting?" she asked.

"Caution," he replied. "And perhaps the benefit of a doubt. I have seen nothing to indicate any animosity on her part as yet, and I would suggest we do nothing to unnecessarily provoke such a reaction."

"Then you think we should ignore her as a threat?" Minerva asked, disbelief evident in her tone.

"Not at all. I think it would behoove us not to alienate her without good reason. You have met with her already, have you not?"

"You know my appointment was directly after yours."

"Then I wonder what was your impression of her."

Minerva snorted softly. "I wondered the same thing of you."

Severus tapped a finger on his desk, then lifted his eyebrows. "I did not detect any particular malice in the encounter," he replied after a moment, his tone carrying a heavy air of concession. "And I believe I was impressed with her. I've yet to decide if I like her, but I do think I am impressed. She has the Malfoy charisma, and I find myself rather wary of that, as I believe I told her more than I intended. I will have to make an effort to exercise more caution in the future. Regardless, though, I think she will be either a powerful ally or a powerful enemy. I think it crucial that we discover where her loyalties lie, in short order."

Minerva nodded thoughtfully at this. If Severus considered someone a powerful ally or enemy, she could not take the assessment lightly, as he, himself, was powerful in either role. "Then shall we tread lightly?"

"We should choose our battles," he replied, sounding a little irritated. "I don't know how many ways I can say that, Minerva-- I believe we should not offer her reasons to be our enemy, and that we remember who she is. Never tickle a sleeping dragon, if you will. If she becomes our enemy, it would be beneficial if it was not a result of our actions."

Minerva sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"I'd almost swear you sound disappointed, Minerva," he commented dryly, and her lips quirked into a momentary smile.

"I was quite prepared to hate her on principle, I must say. Pity you couldn't be swayed to join me."

Severus snorted softly again. "Invite me in a week and I might do that. In fact, invite me this evening, and I might."

Minerva frowned slightly, then nodded. "That's right. You are interviewing for the Defense position again, aren't you?"

"Who told you that?" he snapped, and Minerva held up a forestalling hand.

"Don't lose your temper with me," she retorted. "And remember that as Deputy Headmistress, I do still have access to certain information that is not common knowledge. That, coupled with the fact that she asked you to schedule an additional hour... I'd have to be daft not to reach that conclusion."

"Hrm," he replied non-committally, though she could tell that he was wavering between hopefulness and irritation. For a long moment, she studied him silently.

"Why do you want that position so badly?" she finally asked, and he looked up at her, his face closed tightly as a sealed tomb.

"Because it is the position for which I am most qualified," he replied.

"But the way you teach potions is..."

"Is a separate issue, Minerva."

For a very long moment, she watched him, and then stood, smoothing her robes. "If you are so stubborn with her, I've no doubt that I shall see you storming about the castle in a foul mood tomorrow, then," she told him.

"Excuse me?" Indignation crossed his face, and Minerva smiled triumphantly. She always considered it a personal victory to break Severus Snape's defenses and elicit an honest reaction from him.

"Nothing, Severus," she replied placatingly, and, far from surprisingly, he swept up from his chair and moved to block her exit from his office, his arm across the door. For a man who was so intimidating and surprising, he could be extraordinarily predictable at times.

"No, you meant something by that comment, and I want to know what it is."

She patted his arm and ducked under it, out into the corridor. "Only that it the world would not end if you answered a question directly from time to time. And, if she asks you why you want the Defense position, I hope your answer is a little less off-putting. For heaven's sake, Severus, if you interview like that, it's no wonder your request has never been approved."

She swept back upstairs, leaving him gaping like a fish behind her.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating! And sorry the chapter is so short. It took me this long to find my way back into the story, but I think I have it again. Thank you for your reviews! They're really the reason I didn't abandon the story all together._


	6. Chapter 06: One step ahead

By the time the clocks chimed six o'clock, Severus had worked himself into a bundle of anticipatory nerves, despite the fact that he didn't dare get his hopes up too high. He'd been denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for so many years running that it seemed almost to be a joke by now, though one he did not find overly amusing. Perhaps, though, Headmistress Malfoy would be more willing to grant him his desire than Headmaster Dumbledore had been. Malfoy, after all, did not have the years of experience in telling him no. Perhaps that was in his favor.

At precisely six, he entered the Headmistress' office, which, unsurprisingly considering her schedule today, was largely as it had been when he left that morning. The only discernable difference was a tray of what appeared to be untouched dinner on a table, and a general feeling of more scattered paper. Her head came up, though, and there was that smile on her lips—the Malfoy smile, cool and bordering on condescending, as though the recipient should realize that being gifted such a smile was, indeed, a blessing. It was irritating from Draco, and ingratiating from Lucius. From Regalia, though, it was almost seductive. He wanted to make her smile genuinely.

"Ah, Professor Snape," she said, rising. "Come in, have a seat. I expect you know why you're here?"

He moved to the chair he had occupied earlier, and paused, waiting for her to join him before seating himself. "To discuss the school's need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," he replied promptly.

She laughed, that musical sound of birds singing and chimes ringing. "And to convince me that you are precisely the man for the job," she added. "So, why don't we begin there? Tell me what you think is necessary in that position, and why you are a prime candidate."

For some reason he would never have been able to define, Severus was not anticipating an actual _interview_ here. He'd been expecting, perhaps because it was the way Dumbledore had always done it, to come in here and to point out that they were in need of a teacher, and to insist that he was qualified. Dumbledore had never once asked him to justify that claim. Dumbledore hadn't even properly 'interviewed' him for the position of Potions professor. In fact, Severus had very little experience with interviews at all.

"Well," he began, his brain churning quickly to produce a response, "obviously you want someone who is familiar with the Dark Arts and the defenses against them." That opening sounded hopelessly inadequate even to his own ears. _Think, you idiot!_ he prompted himself, and took a deep breath. "And, preferably someone with practical experience." _Excellent. Provide yourself an opening you can't follow up on. If she asks you what experience you have, what are you going to say? That you've been playing both sides of the Dark Lord's battles for the last twenty years? Find something more neutral._ "And, given the dangerous nature of the subject, someone who is capable of controlling a classroom." _Ah! Finally something you can work with._ "It's also likely that you want someone with experience teaching."

Malfoy was nodding, and making notes with that quill of hers again. It _never_ stopped moving. It was slightly disconcerting. "Then I take it you are familiar with the Dark Arts and the defenses against?"

"Yes," he replied, grimacing slightly. "If you check my OWL and NEWT scores…"

"I already have," she replied, pulling two sheets of parchment from that charmed folder of hers.

"Oh," he murmured, then composed himself. "Then you know that my scores were most impressive." He'd received Outstandings on both, but he knew that a couple of test scores were not going to win him this coveted position.

"And experience?" she prompted when it became obvious that he had nothing else to add to his little plug about his scores.

Sighing, he closed his eyes. "We live in dark times, Headmistress," he replied vaguely. "I have as much experience as any other wizard who has been involved. More than some. Likely less than others." _Damn._ That could have been a point strongly in his favor if he were at liberty to divulge the extent of his involvement.

"Of course," she replied, not looking up as she made more notes. "And the teaching experience… obviously you've been teaching for fifteen years now, so… ah yes. Ability to control a classroom. Tell me about that."

No reaction from her. She didn't even _look_ at him as she spoke. It was unnerving. "I… er… I maintain a very strict discipline in my classroom, Headmistress," he replied. "Potions is also a potentially dangerous subject, and I believe it is largely common knowledge at Hogwarts that my classroom is not a place for foolish shenanigans. When I take classes for other members of the faculty, I maintain that same control in my temporary classrooms as well."

"Quite," she replied noncommittally. "Are there any other qualities you think are critical in a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor?"

He grimaced again, though he didn't think she noticed, absorbed as she seemed to be in her note taking. "All the general qualifications necessary for teaching, of course," he replied, almost absently as he watched the hypnotic motion of her quill. "A desire to see the students succeed, a determination to work towards helping them in that quest. Organization and leadership abilities." She was nodding as he spoke.

"Anything else?"

If he were more inclined towards fidgeting, Severus would have been doing precisely that. "Perhaps I should ask you what qualities _you_ are looking for and tell you how well I meet them?" he suggested, and this time she did look up.

For a long moment, she regarded him carefully, but there was no expression to her glacier-like eyes. "Very well," she replied, reaching into her folder again and producing yet another sheet of parchment. "I am looking for patience, Professor Snape. Do you consider yourself a patient man?"

She _stayed_ a step ahead of him. If he could ever manage to put himself in the lead, he thought he could maintain it by staying on his toes, but he'd begun at a disadvantage, and that disadvantage had not eased in the slightest. Just as he tried to urge the interview to a more favorable position for himself, she tells him that she is looking for _patience_. "Yes," he replied after a moment. "I am a patient man. I am willing to wait for a great many things, and I have a fundamental understanding that there are _many_ things that cannot be rushed. I do not, however, have a great deal of tolerance for stupidity. If you are asking if I am patient enough to teach a class to wait and find the best opening for attacking a Hinkypunk, then yes. If you are asking if I will be patient while a student repeatedly makes the same error—no. I am not patient in that respect. I expect students to learn, and so long as they are advancing, I will be exceedingly patient with them—whatever I am teaching—but if they are not trying, then patience will cease to be a virtue."

She nodded, her quill still bobbing and swooping. "I am also looking for someone who can teach on a very broad scope as well as a narrow one. There are too many facets of the Dark Arts for each individual one to be covered in a classroom. How would you ensure that your students have an adequate understanding, even if an individual curse or creature was not part of the curriculum?"

"That, Headmistress, is very similar to potions class," he replied, feeling slightly more confident about this answer. "I do not teach students to brew specific mixtures so much as I teach them the technique. That they mix a Swelling Potion when they are second years is coincidental; I could replace that with any number of solutions. The real lesson is to watch for the change in consistency that marks a catalytic reaction, and the particular potion is merely the tool we use to practice the skill. Defense Against the Dark Arts is much the same way—certain concepts and skills need to be learned so that they are second nature, but the way one deals with a Dark Creature is largely the same, whatever it may be: find the weakness and exploit it to your advantage. It's a matter of learning to think defensively, of being prepared, of putting previous, sometimes seemingly unrelated, knowledge to good use."

Her head was bobbing slightly, almost absently, and her quill continued to dip and lurch. "Since the school has apparently been lacking in a competent Defense teacher for…" she frowned and paused, picking up one of her sheets of parchment again and peering at it, "at least three of the last five years, I am especially concerned with the older students being prepared for their OWLs and NEWTs. How would you ensure that the fifth and seventh years have the necessary knowledge for those exams when their education has been so severely lacking?"

Severus snorted softly. "Isn't that the riddle of the century?" he murmured under his breath. More loudly, he offered what amounted to conjecture. "First," he began, "I'd have to insist that so much of that will depend on the students. I would impress upon them from the beginning of classes that they are far behind, and to catch up to the appropriate levels will require a great deal of effort on their part. I would, of course, make myself available to them for additional lessons, and schedule additional ones outside the primary curriculum. There was some evidence last year that the students are willing to gather after classes for additional organized instruction, perhaps they could be convinced of the merit of doing that again this year. Fortunately, the third and fourth year students are likely not in a terrible place. There is every reason to believe they could be brought up to par within a year. Incidentally, Headmistress, that is something else I would be looking for if I were you—stability. There have been enough teachers who were here for a year and then left."

"Indeed," she replied evenly. "Tell me, Professor, why is it that you wish to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Making a mental note to thank Minerva, Severus began promptly. "It is a practical, challenging subject," he replied. "And it is one that the students have a great need to learn, and to learn well. It is unfortunate that we have had so many unreliable and incompetent instructors in the past few years, and I think it shows in the students. The subject is very nearly a joke with them, and I know, perhaps better than anyone on staff, that it cannot be allowed to remain such. I could offer them guidance and instruction that they have not had in the past."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Quite interesting," she replied smoothly. "But you did not answer my question. I asked why you want to teach it, not why there is need for a teacher and not why you are a good candidate. You have applied for this position several times in the past years, which tells me that you desire it. Why?"

He was slightly taken aback by the question, and the insistence on an answer. It was the same question Minerva had asked him, and the same one Dumbledore had often asked. _You are a potions master, Severus, one of the brightest in the field, and at such a young age, there is little doubt that you will exceed everyone's wildest expectations. I won't have you walking away from that without a reason, my boy. Now why are you so hell-bent on teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts?_ And, it was a valid question indeed. Why was he so adamant?

"I don't know that I can answer that, Headmistress," he replied finally. "But I suppose it has become something of a passion for me."

"Well, then perhaps you can tell me why you have been denied the position for five years running?" she asked, frowning. "Professor Dumbledore's notes are very vague on that point."

Severus snorted softly. "If you ever find out that answer, I hope you share it with me," he replied. "As far as I can tell, the Headmaster simply thought I was fulfilling some sort of destiny by teaching Potions."

Regalia shook her head slightly, a smile on her lips. "And do you not wish to teach potions?" she asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

He should have known that was coming, and cast about for an answer that was a little less… pompous than the truth. He could not find one. "I have dedicated many years to my studies of potions, Headmistress," he replied tightly. "Watching students render a simple potion useless through carelessness is… trying. There is, in my estimation, little excuse not to succeed in potion-making. The instructions are straight-forward, at least for the mixtures I have them brew in class, and if one is careful, anyone should be able to achieve excellent results. It is a study based entirely on skill, not on talent, and with preparation and attention to detail, there is no excuse for failure. And I have little patience for carelessness, as I mentioned earlier."

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully. "Do you think you would be more content teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation.

"Why?"

"Because it is not a study based entirely on precision and meticulous preparation. It is dependent largely on instinct and talent, and a student can be successful at it without being perfect, which is not possible in potions. Potions sets up the expectation of failure, in a way. There is only one way to achieve the desired result, and no way to recover from a poor start. There are more chances with a subject like the Defense Against the Dark Arts—an initial mistake needn't be the end of it. It's broader, with more opportunities for students to succeed, which, in turn, is less frustrating for the teacher."

Malfoy nodded again. "Well, Professor Snape, thank you for your time. I'll let you know one way or the other by noon on Friday."

"Friday?" he repeated, the surprise urging him to speak before he realized his mouth was open.

"Yes, Friday," she replied firmly. "I have a few more interviews scheduled before I make a decision."

He snapped his mouth shut. Dumbledore had always given him an answer the night he discussed it with him. _Patience,_ he reminded himself.

"Very well, Headmistress," he replied resigning himself to wait.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Professor Snape," she said amicably, closing her folder and standing. He stood too.

"Tomorrow?" he frowned. "Do I have a meeting with you tomorrow? I don't have anything written…"

She interrupted by laughing. "Breakfast, Professor. Or lunch or dinner, or in the corridors… Surely we will see each other in passing at some point during the day."

He felt a fool as he nodded. "Of course," he replied.

"Good evening, Professor Snape."

"Good evening, Headmistress." As he stepped out of her office and onto the moving staircase again, he reflected that she was ahead once again—he could not afford to make an enemy of her for any reason until she made her decision regarding the Defense position. Cunning indeed.


	7. Chapter 07: The Battlelines are Drawn

"Well, what do you think of her?"

The her in question was, of course, Regalia Malfoy. It was all anyone thought about or talked about it seemed, and Severus was almost tired of it. Almost. Except that he was never precisely tired of offering his own opinion, even if he grew exceptionally tired of listening to everyone else's. Minerva hated her, plainly put, but could offer no real reason why, though Severus stood by his original conjecture that it had a great deal to do with how young Malfoy was and how successful she was at that young age. Filius, of course, was practically in love with her. He called her folder 'brilliant!' and her little bit of jungle 'ingenious'. She could do no wrong in his eyes, already, and the way he looked at her was something like a teacher looking at a favored student. Pomona seemed determined to give her a chance, and the benefit of the doubt, but even that dumpy little witch had been more than a trifle miffed after meeting with the Headmistress. Hagrid loved her, as was to be expected; after all, Malfoy let exotic birds fly around unattended in her office, so what wasn't there for the gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor to love? Sybill hated her with a passion, and went on about an aura that was 'black as jet'. Severus interpreted this as meaning 'the bitch is prettier and more eloquent than I.' Vector hated her, Sinastra refused to offer an opinion at all. Poppy was already singing her praises, as Regalia had, apparently, already seen to half a dozen requests that Poppy had made. Requests Poppy had been making for years.

That, above all else, was one thing everyone agreed on: whether they liked the woman or not, she had accomplished more in the last three days than they had seen in the last two years. Dumbledore, while a beloved Headmaster and colleague, had his fingers in too many pies, and now that he wasn't there, and it wasn't a troll like Umbridge taking his place, the faculty could see this. For years, Albus Dumbledore had divided his attention between Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic and, as some of them knew at least, the Order of the Phoenix, and there were, unsurprisingly, things that slipped by unnoticed. Small things. Inconsequential, really. The Muggle Studies texts, for instance. They were fifteen years out of print. All the other class sets of texts were more on the order of fifty and a hundred years old, but it was easy enough to acknowledge that Charms and Transfiguration did not change so rapidly as Muggle technology and culture did. Malfoy had procured three new telescopes for Sinastra, and the astronomy professor was ecstatic to discover that she could count the rings around Uranus with the new telescopes; the others in her class were relics from more than a century ago.

Filch wasn't particularly pleased with Regalia Malfoy; after all, the time he normally spent prowling the halls for mischief was going to be considerably less if the current trend continued; in just two days, Malfoy had written more than seventy-five work orders. Stairs that creaked and walls in need of patches, leaks in the roof, windows that needed caulking... it was an old castle, and despite a generally gilded appearance, it was showing its age.

Yesterday, during a half-hour lull in her busy schedule, Regalia Malfoy had made her way down to the dungeons, and she'd watched while he was working. He had a new potion on his curriculum this year, having become entirely disenchanted with the creative ways his fourth years perpetually ruined a Soothing Solution, and for the last three weeks, he hadn't missed an opportunity to brew the potion, determined to familiarize himself with every stage of its preparation. Malfoy had seated herself near him, though at enough of a distance that she was not in the way, and watched silently. After several minutes of observing, she asked, "May I ask what you're making?"

Momentarily, Severus had considered a harsh retort, but thought better of it. "It's a mild Petrifaction Potion," he replied, adding a small packet of spider webs to the cauldron. "I've replaced another potion with it for this year, and I'm still looking for ways a student could possibly create something dangerous from it."

Malfoy exhaled a soft snort of laughter, but nodded, continuing to watch. "Do they often manage to make a benign potion dangerous?"

"More often than I care to have happen," he replied, frowning at the spider webs. If the students doubled them, they'd have... a mess. And a bigger mess if they forgot them all together, and a bigger mess still if they left them to boil for too long. Messes were acceptable, and cleaning up after a mess was a good detention.

"Is it through carelessness?" she asked.

"Generally, yes. Not following directions, sloppy preparation." He frowned into the cauldron, watching carefully for the change in color that would indicate that it was time to add viper scales. "Sometimes it's the cauldrons, which is usually carelessness still, not cleaning it properly from the previous potion, not noticing cracks or imperfections. Sometimes it's their phials, I think. I've seen students who could never manage a potion, and I've watched them from start to finish, and their technique is beyond reproach, and even I can't get it right using their equipment. I can't control the quality of merchandise sold in Diagon Alley, unfortunately." Most of this was spoken with a detached, almost disinterested tone; his mind was on the subtle differences in the surface of the liquid.

"Their phials are faulty?" Malfoy asked, sounding surprised.

"Mm," he assented. "Quality phials should be crystal, but crystal is expensive, so glass is allowed. Well-made glass phials can be as accurate as crystal, but there is a wide variety of glass sold in Diagon Alley. Some of them wouldn't do to mix beverages."

"And how do you know which ones are of decent quality?"

He glanced up at her. "Sometimes you can tell by looking. If there are bubbles in the glass, or if one side is thicker than another, if they're crooked, cloudy-looking... Usually, though, it's hard to see."

"Then what's the solution?"

"Damned if I know," Severus replied softly, almost to himself. "I've been trying to find a way to correct the problem for years."

"Surely there's a solution somewhere?"

"I'm sure there is, but as I said, I don't know what it is."

"What would be the ideal solution?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Insist on crystal," he replied promptly. "Unfortunately, a set of quality crystal phials is more expensive than four sets of glass."

"Hrm. I'll have to think on that."

Apparently, she had thought about it, because this morning when he woke, he'd had a note from her. Well, perhaps a 'note' would be understating it a bit-- he'd had a three-page proposal. The short summary of her suggestion was that they remove the phials from the supply list, invest in a class set, and have the students each pay five sickles per year, four of which would be refunded if the student did not break any of the phials. A moment of math had brought him to the conclusion that even a student who never saw a knut of their deposit back would be paying just barely more for the use of the crystal than he would have paid for a set of glass. And, provided the students did not break their phials, the school would actually make a tidy profit after three years. A profit which, Malfoy suggested, should be used to offset the costs the Potions Master incurred in obtaining some of the more expensive and less common ingredients he used in demonstrations. The only suggestion Severus had was that the refunded deposit be based on how many phials a student broke, rather than the 'all or none' that she had proposed. He was thinking about Longbottom who broke at least three phials each term. Malfoy had agreed, and, at lunch today, had told him that she would be submitting the proposal to the Ministry of Education for approval.

Severus had snorted at that. "It won't happen," he told her bluntly. "But it's an appreciated gesture."

"It will happen," she replied, "or I'll make such a nuisance of myself that they'll agree just to get me to go away."

Severus was not holding his breath, but he did allow himself to hope she would make good on her promise. And whether she did or not, he realized that the effort counted strongly in her favor, as far as he was concerned.

"I'm still reserving judgement," he replied to the question Pomona had asked him. "I truly haven't decided." And if he had decided, and the decision was that he didn't like her, he doubted he would voice that opinion until after the week was over; after all, he wouldn't find out whether he had the Defense Against the Dark Arts position until then, and he didn't want to jeopardize his chances by gossiping about her. Somehow, he was certain that the gossip would reach her ears eventually.

The door opened suddenly, and Severus, Pomona, Minerva and Filius all straightened, almost imperceptibly as Malfoy glided gracefully into the room. Today she wore purple, deep and rich, her hair braided and wound about her head like a crown.

"Good afternoon," she greeted them smoothly, her velvet voice lending a richness to the words. "Thank you for coming."

Minerva coughed into her handkerchief, and Severus was certain that it was a protest of sorts-- they hadn't much choice about coming, after all. Regalia Malfoy wanted to speak with the Heads of the Houses, and so they were assembled.

"There are several things we need to discuss," she was saying, placing the now-infamous folder on the table and taking out her quill. "First and foremost being the rescheduling. I want us to make a special effort to rewrite all the students' schedules before they arrive..." a chorus of protests interrupted her, but she continued, raising her voice slightly, as though no one had spoken, "...so that we will have as many of them completed as we can manage. I believe that the rescheduling of classes will benefit everyone, but it will take a fair bit of work to see that the student schedules reflect the changes. I'd much rather we spend a few days on it than to try and have the students do it themselves when they return, and give up a week of classes."

Severus closed his eyes, envisioning being up until all hours of the night with this project. There were two hundred and twelve students in Slytherin, which meant two hundred and twelve pieces of paper and...

"Now, I realize that this seems a monstrous undertaking, but before we panic, I want to remind you all that the first and second year schedules will be quite easy, really, since they all have the same classes. And, I also want to remind you all that there are really only six classes that have been reorganized drastically, and we did attempt to even out where it would hit. I believe, Professor Snape, that you will need to concentrate on seeing all your students in Transfiguration and Defense of the Dark Arts. Professor McGonagall, your focus will be Potions and Charms. Professor Flitwick, your students are most likely to need Herbology and Potions rearranged. Professor Sprout, Charms and Astronomy."

If this is as easy as looking at two classes, I'll eat my scarf, Severus thought sourly, but penned the note to himself. It was the classes everyone took that had been rearranged, and, perhaps it would be worth it. Severus was rather looking forward to having a planning period every day, after all, so maybe it was worth the inconvenience of rescheduling everyone. And, since they were the classes everyone took, the schedules would all be largely the same really. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe. Of course, he could already envision students enrolled in Charms and Herbology at the same time.

"So, shall we pick a time to meet and work on this as a group? Or would you rather work on it individually? And do you want help? I can have the other teachers join the effort."

There was quiet for a moment, as the four of them traded looks of doubt. Finally, Severus spoke up. "I, for one, would prefer to do the Slytherin schedules myself. It will be far more efficient and less confusing, I think. I won't speak for anyone else, though."

"I'll do the Gryffindor schedules alone," Minerva agreed. Filius and Pomona voiced their agreement as well.

"I do, however, think we should pick a time when we will be doing it, and, perhaps gather in one of the larger classrooms for it. It will be easier to make corrections if we're all together, particularly if something needs to be moved around." Minerva had a point, and Severus nodded his assent.

"Agreed. And I rather think a classroom will be more convenient anyway. I'd suggest one of the older rooms on the fourth floor-- those rooms still have the larger tables in them."

"Excellent!" Malfoy proclaimed. "When will be most convenient?"

Again, looks were traded, but no one spoke. After a moment, Filius squeaked a suggestion, "Tonight? Around nine, perhaps?"

Severus grimaced, but, after a moment, nodded. Best to get it over with quickly. There was reluctant agreement from everyone at the table.

"Good! Moving on, then. Let's see..." She skimmed one of the pieces of parchment in front of her, and paused, looking at one. "Hrm, this next I think. I've had a response from the Ministry of Education regarding several of our requests. Professor Sprout, it looks like we have approval on for a covered walkway between the castle and Greenhouse Four, as you'd requested, though I don't have an estimate on when construction will begin. I'll follow up on that in a week if I haven't heard anything more, if that's acceptable?"

Pomona's eyes were wide, and she nodded mutely. Filius and Minerva were wide-eyed as well, and Severus could only hope he was managing his shock a bit better. Even if Pomona had made that request within five minutes of arriving at Hogwarts, it should have taken three times this long for an acknowledgement.

"Hrm, and the Muggle Studies texts have been approved. Oh, good. And we have a budget for social events. Not a very big one, but maybe we can work with it..." she trailed off, reading over the parchment, and Severus shot a look at Minerva.

Social events? he mouthed, and she shook her head, her eyes wide. Filius and Pomona didn't appear to have heard a word about this either.

"Hrm, Professor Snape, regarding the phials..."

He set his face into an expression of skepticism; of course the Ministry wouldn't approve that.

"It hasn't been denied, but I'm told we need to provide additional justification. Do you think you can prepare a report detailing why crystal is important?"

This time, he knew his mouth dropped open, and he nodded mutely. "Of course," he replied, stunned.

"Excellent! The sooner you get that to me, the sooner I can hopefully move this through."

"I'll get it to you by the weekend," he offered, and she nodded.

"Very good. We're off to a good start, then. I also have a request here from the Board of Governors-- it seems they're interested in touring the school some time after classes start. Actually, I have a number of requests from parents who wish to tour the school. What do you all think?"

"That's hardly an uncommon request. Albus denied it every year," Minerva replied, her voice carrying a finality.

"Why?" Malfoy asked, and one could have heard a pin drop. Minerva turned her head slowly to look at Severus, who schooled his expression to a blank one-- this was not an argument he had any desire to become involved in.

"Because," Minerva began, with a tone of enduring patience, "it is a bad idea."

"But why?"

Filius looked from Minerva to Malfoy and back again, then cast his eyes to his parchment.

"Because there is far too much tension in the world right now and Hogwarts is a haven from all that. There is no need to expose the students to such nonsense."

"There is no need to expose the students to their own parents?" Malfoy asked, her eyes widening. "I find it hard to believe that they haven't already been exposed to their parents."

"There is no benefit to allowing pompous witches and wizards to parade around Hogwarts, peering into broom closets as though they own the place!" Minerva's voice was taking on an air of defense, and Severus carefully avoided looking at her. "It's a ridiculous idea, and I can't believe you're even entertaining the possibility. Albus would never have allowed it." Again that air of finality.

"You cannot tell me that there is no benefit to parents wishing to become involved in their children's education," Malfoy replied, her voice, at least, remaining even. "And so far, your only objection to this seems to be that Professor Dumbledore would not have approved. And, given that he isn't here to offer his reasoning, I'm asking you, Professor McGonagall. Why are you so adamantly opposed to this?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore seldom saw need to share his justifications with anyone, nor any need to consult the entire staff on a point that was so clearly under his jurisdiction. He made the decision, and it is because I am Deputy Headmistress that I was even privy to the fact that it was brought up." Minerva's voice was like ice now. Ice that was cracking.

"Then the only reason you have for opposing this is that Professor Dumbledore opposed it."

"That's good enough!" Minerva slammed her hand onto the table. "If the Headmaster says no, then the answer is no!"

"He is not the Headmaster anymore." Malfoy's voice had taken on an icy edge as well, and Severus had the impression that he was witnessing what could best be described as an Alpha Female struggle. "If you have actual reasons, I am most interested in hearing them. But cease with telling me what Albus Dumbledore did and did not do!"

Minerva's lips tightened into a thin line, her mouth growing white, her eyes narrow.

"Well? Nothing from you, Professor McGonagall? What about the rest of you? What do you think?"

Pomona had the distinct look of a witch who wished she were being left out of the conversation. Filius found a sudden interest in his parchment. Severus could almost feel the shackles latching onto his wrists and ankles, pulling him in separate directions. Minerva, of course, expected his loyalty. Malfoy, however, held his future. And what do you think, anyway? a voice asked him. If you put aside loyalties and focus on the question, what do you think? It was finally Severus who broke the silence.

"I believe it would be... nice," he conceded. "In theory, at least. In practice, however, it would be a nightmare. Better than half the students have at least one Muggle parent, and just getting them here would be a challenge. And, I must say that I think there would be conflicts that would arise. If Lucius Malfoy, for example, were brought face to face with the Muggle parents of one of the Hufflepuffs." He shook his head. "I wouldn't mind the opportunity to speak with the parents of some of our students; I've never even met the majority of them, and if there has been correspondence, it has been brief. I don't think it's practical, though."

Malfoy nodded carefully and looked at Pomona and Filius. "And what do you two think?"

Pomona didn't look at anyone as she spoke. "I think it would be beneficial," she said softly. "Most particularly for the Muggle parents, who have no concept of what their children are going through here. And it would alleviate some concerns, I believe. And we know that we can get Muggles into the school, and I daresay it isn't a matter of security when their children are attending."

"Perhaps if we didn't have all the parents at once," Filius suggested quietly. "Invite Slytherin parents one day, and Gryffindor one day, and Ravenclaw one day and Hufflepuff one day. That would solve most of the problems surrounding conflict among adults, and it would mean fewer outsiders at a time."

"Then you three are in agreement that this would be beneficial?" Malfoy prompted, and Pomona and Filius both nodded. Severus sat still.

"Professor Snape?" Malfoy prompted, and Severus glanced at Minerva. She looked as though she could chew iron and spit nails.

"I honestly don't know," he replied at last. "I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, as I said, I think it would be a nice idea, in theory at least, but I have a bad feeling about how it would turn out in reality. And, my instinct will always say precisely what Minerva was saying-- if Dumbledore opposed something, he had his reasons, and not knowing what those reasons were, I would be hesitant to make changes. If you were to chain me to an answer, though, I'd advise against it."

"Very well," Malfoy said. "Then I have one adamantly opposed, one straddling the fence but leaning towards opposition, two in favor. Should I put it to the rest of the faculty?"

"No." That, at least, they all agreed on, as all four professors spoke in unison.

"It is your decision, Regalia," Pomona said softly. "Not ours. If you put it to the rest of the staff, then you'll put everyone in the same position we were all just in-- choosing between you and Dumbledore. The only result will be hard feelings, and you will still be the one making the ultimate decision. Best to just make it and tell everyone what they will be doing."

Severus wouldn't have credited Pomona with such a keen sense for politics, but she was precisely right.

_

* * *

A/N: Lovesick Severus? Oi. I need to change that perception. Infatuated and intrigued, yes, but not lovesick I hope._

Silver: Ya know… I really don't know what I'm going for with her yet. I keep changing my mind. One minute I'm thinking she's going to be a love interest, the next I think she's going to be a horror. At the moment, though, I'm content with the fact that half my reviewers like her and half hate her. She is modeled after a real person, and that's the way it works—some people LOVE her and some HATE her. And it's very mutual.

Cecelle: yes, I liked squirmy Snape. I love to find a reason to put him in unlikely situations, and squirming is very unlikely for him. And I thought that dangling the DADA job in front of his nose would be enough to make him squirm a bit.

**There's your chance to influence me!! What role do you want to see Regalia taking in relation to Severus? I have plans for her for another chapter or three (which is maybe a week in fic-time), and Snape'll be in a position to either love her or hate her. Shall the fantasy continue, or shall she be a thorn in his side, or shall I let them become respectful and respectable colleagues? **

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Oh, and the disclaimer I keep forgetting:

I don't own anything that belongs to JKR (duh). I think I have two original characters so far, and only one whose name I remember (Regalia)-- the other is the Minister of Education whose name I've already forgotten.


	8. Chapter 08: The Price of Loyalty

"It's hopeless. I have my third year students in Herbology and astronomy at the same time now," Pomona sighed. "Someone remind me why we're doing this?"

"Because Empress Malfoy wants it this way," Minerva muttered, taking off her spectacles and sinking her head into her hands. "God forbid she leave _anything_ alone."

Filius and Severus exchanged glances, and Severus reached across the table, picking up the stack of parchment that Pomona had just dropped. "Personally," he said softly, "I'm doing this because if we make it work, I will have time for a cup of tea at some point in every day. I'm doing this because it means Thursdays will no longer be a string of students from sunrise until sunset with barely time for lunch. I'm doing it because..."

"You're doing it because she has you by the balls until she tells you if you have the Defense position, Severus, and we all know it. So quit trying to kiss her ass when it isn't even present." Minerva shoved her glasses back onto her nose and peered at the parchment again. Imagine, Severus _defending_ the High Queen of Changing Everything.

She could positively _feel_ his scowl. "And I suppose you won't appreciate having two planning periods on Tuesdays?" he asked, but his head was bent to the parchment again.

"All right, here," Filius piped up, standing in his chair and leaning over the table. "If we exchange third year Charms and first Year Herbology, then we can move the Gryffindors into potions on Wednesday and the second years into Transfiguration on Thursdays, and that clears up a free period for Gryffindor and Ravenclaw astronomy that doesn't coincide with the Herbology."

"And then I'm teaching third year and fifth year Gryffindors at the same time," Severus replied. "And I simply refuse. One class at a time is more than enough."

"This is stupid," Minerva muttered. "This is _not_ worth an extra period. Besides, we're also freeing up the students, and what are we going to do with them? Have them roam the corridors for an hour every day?"

"Study periods, Minerva," Filius replied, sinking into his chair again and peering at the parchment. "And it is worth it."

"It's worth it," Pomona agreed.

It was already past eleven; this 'quick task' had stretched on two hours already, and there was no end in sight. There was, perhaps, a reason that tempers were a little on the edgy side.

"Except that it's an impossible mess. She has second years in potions and Herbology at the same time, third years in Herbology and astronomy, fifth years have no classes at all on Wednesday mornings and Severus is scheduled to be teaching no fewer than _three_ fifth year classes: one of Slytherin and Gryffindor, one of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and one of Hufflepuff and Slytherin." Minerva dropped her quill. "It's absolutely hopeless."

"Let me see that," Severus frowned, reaching for the parchment Minerva had been reading off of. He chuckled. "Minerva, you have sixth year Hufflepuffs with first year Ravenclaws, it seems. Accident? Or perceptive scheduler?"

"Severus!" Pomona looked offended, but the jest did coax a smirk from Minerva, who had often passed half an hour complaining about Hufflepuffs. Never in Pomona's hearing, of course. To Pomona she complained about Slytherins.

Exhaling slowly, Minerva looked at the parchment scattered all over the table again. "You know," she said softly, "I could find it very easy to hate that woman right now. This is absurd. This is something for us to plan to do _next_ year, not to try and accomplish _this_ year. How long have we been teaching without planning periods?"

Severus rubbed his head and looked at a much-scribbled piece of parchment. "I've never had planning periods," he replied. "Unless you count the time before classes begin or the time after they're over."

"Neither have I," Filius offered.

"Have any of us?" Pomona asked.

"Yes," Minerva admitted. "When I first started teaching, I had two every day. But that was back when the budget allowed for two teachers for each of the required subjects."

"So?" Severus prompted. "Is it worth it?"

Grimacing, Minerva tapped her quill on her parchment. She didn't want to admit that her royal highness Queen Malfoy had a point, but it was true. "It's worth it," she replied. "It's truly astonishing how much marking you can get done in an hour if no one is bothering you. And since everyone is either in class or teaching, no one does."

"See?" Filius asked. "Then we'll make this work. Now, if we move the second year Gryffindors to Herbology and the second year Ravenclaws to Astronomy, and put the fourth year Slytherins in..."

* * *

A little after one, the door to the old classroom opened, and Malfoy stepped inside, clutching her dressing gown closed. A candle floated in front of her, bathing her in a golden light, and she paused, unseen in the doorway, watching as the four professors revised the astronomy schedule for the eighth time.

"This is _never_ going to work," Minerva repeated her mantra once more. "It is _hopeless._ It's impossible!"

"It is going to work, Minerva, it's just going to take some effort." Pomona was also beginning to sound like a broken record, and a tired one at that.

"Why don't we call it a night?" Filius asked. "Maybe it will all click together in the morning."

"I _can't_," Minerva replied testily. "I have a meeting with the Mistress of Misery at nine, and then another at three, and there's the staff meeting at one, and at some point I'm going to have to assess the damage in the dormitories from last year's graduating class. We finish tonight or it doesn't get done."

"Minerva, you're tired. You're snapping at shadows. Why don't we put it aside until Friday?" Pomona sounded as though she hoped against hope that Minerva would agree. It was, after all, Minerva who kept insisting that they stay. With every passing minute, nerves became a bit more frayed and tempers grew a little bit shorter.

"No," she insisted. "Going to do this if it kills us. And then that bitch won't have any reason to say we're being uncooperative."

Severus glanced up, having been ignoring the exchanges for the better part of half an hour, and looked levelly at Minerva. "No one would ever accuse you of being uncooperative, Minerva. You are a _model_ of easy-going, good natured teamwork. Always keeping in mind what is best for the school, never letting your personal feelings cloud your judgment." He was going to need a shovel before long if he kept piling on the shit.

Minerva awarded him with a scowl. "At least I'm being honest about what I think of her. You, on the other hand, are utterly ass-whipped at the moment, and I don't think I like seeing you on your knees."

It was Severus' turn to scowl, but Pomona cleared her throat softly. "Let's either get back to work or go to bed," she suggested, then yawned. "And my vote is for bed."

"I agree," Filius interjected. "We've been at it for too long. I think we're going in circles."

"No," Minerva insisted again. We are going to _finish_ this. I won't have the Monarch of Modification accusing us of not trying. I won't have her accusing _me_ of not trying."

"The Monarch of Modification?" A laugh was threatening Filius' voice despite a valiant effort to keep a straight face. "You're scraping the bottom of the barrel now, Minerva."

Severus snorted softly.

"Fine. Then I'll just go back to referring to her as 'the bitch'."

"Tell us how you really feel," Severus invited.

"You want to know?" Minerva asked, folding her hands. "Fine. I think she's an annoying little princess. She comes in here, and starts looking for things that she can change. Do you know what it reminds me of? A cat, marking his territory. She's not going to stop until everything at Hogwarts has her fingerprints on it, and I think it's ridiculous. And she's like a worm, slithering her way into everyone's hearts. It's insulting! The price of loyalty? A new telescope and a few books. Or is it _crystal phials,_ Severus? The half-made promise of a coveted position that assures your loyalty for these first crucial weeks while you tiptoe around and try not to insult her. Subtle jabs at Albus, picking apart the things he did and..."

Severus' eyes were glinting dangerously. "And God forbid we admit that Albus Dumbledore might have ever done _anything_ wrong," Severus hissed. "What do you have to say in your own defense? Every time she opens her mouth, you open yours. Merlin's beard, Minerva, you oppose her just to be opposing her!"

"You're right," Minerva replied simply. "I do. I hate her already. If she were to make a speech about how wonderful mothers are, I would find someone whose mother is a whore, just to prove her wrong. But that aside, she has no _business_ walking in here and changing everything. She can bloody well let well enough alone."

"And you could stop knee-jerking and listen to what she is saying before protesting! Just because it's been done one way since the dawn of time doesn't mean that's the _right_ way!"

Minerva and Severus were squaring off rather impressively, and Filius and Pomona were both wisely avoiding the conversation all together.

"Nor is it inherently wrong! And I would think _you_ would show a bit more loyalty to the Headmaster, Severus Snape. After all he's done for you, and this is how you repay him. Shameful."

Severus' eyes narrowed, and he stood suddenly, leaning forward over the table. "Fuck off, McGonagall," he hissed. "And don't you _EVER_ question my loyalty to Albus!"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and then Pomona stood. "I think it's bedtime," she said firmly. "We can finish this tomorrow. Minerva..." she preempted Minerva's protests with a warning in her tone. "That's enough. Severus, go to _bed._" Pomona could be as firm and stern as any teacher in the school when she wanted to be, and just now she did not look like a force to be taken lightly.

"And I suppose you're going to report me to the bitch if I tell you I'm not leaving?" Minerva challenged. Filius' eyes suddenly grew wide, and Severus snapped his head in the direction the Charms professor was looking. "Go ahead. Give her a reason to fire me. I'm sure she'd love the opportunity to start replacing the faculty, and the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor would be such an auspicious place to start."

"Minerva..." Severus murmured, his eyes focused behind Minerva's shoulder.

"What?"

"You might want to measure your words a bit more carefully."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because 'the bitch' is right behind you," Regalia Malfoy replied, her voice matched only by her eyes for coldness.

Minerva's eyes closed, and Severus saw her mouth a curse before she straightened, and turned slowly to face the Headmistress. "Headmistress," she acknowledged tightly, opening her eyes. "How long have you been standing there?"

Malfoy walked slowly around the table, then paused, reaching for a sheet of parchment and looking over it for a minute, then dropping it again. "What you really want to know is how much I heard," she said softly, and Severus recognized the tone as inherently Malfoy. It was the tone Lucius used when he was at his most dangerous.

"Let's see," she said softly. "Mistress of Misery?"

Severus' mind churned backward, trying to remember precisely when that epithet had surfaced and what had been said since. He certainly hadn't noticed Malfoy there that long ago. He hadn't seen her until Minerva's last little speech.

"Yes," Malfoy continued. "Mistress of Misery and Monarch of Modification, wasn't it? Creative." The last carried an emphasis that made Severus' mouth go dry.

"Headmistress..."

"Stop calling me that," Malfoy said softly. "Regalia, or Malfoy, or 'the bitch.' Take your pick. But I want you all to _stop_ patronizing me."

Pomona cleared her throat softly. "Really," she said, sounding a bit nervous. "I think it is past time we all called it a night. I don't think anything productive has happened in the last two hours."

"That's because the mess is too profound to wade through," Minerva replied tightly. "If we're given nonsense to work with, it's hardly surprising that we're only going to produce garbage."

For a moment, Malfoy was quiet, and then she reached for another of the sheets of parchment. "Is that what this is about?" she asked. "The scheduling?"

Filius cleared his throat. "There were a few problems," he squeaked. "Some conflicts. We've been trying to sort it out, but I think Pomona is right—we've all worked beyond the endurance of our tolerance."

"What sort of conflicts?" Malfoy asked, her eyes on Severus.

"Students in two places at once. Teachers in two places at once. Just... conflicts."

"The result of faulty scheduling," Minerva said sharply. "We've had to rearrange every class, practically."

"Ah," Malfoy said softly. "I see."

"Do you?" Minerva shot back. "I doubt that, somehow."

"Yes," Malfoy replied icily, dropping the parchment she'd been holding. "I do. I fucked up. Is that what you want from me? I made a mistake, and that, apparently, is not something your former Headmaster ever did. I overlooked a scheduling conflict. That, surely, is enough to make me a force of evil second only to You-Know-Who."

Severus cleared his throat softly. "I think," he said quietly, "that Pomona is right. It's time we were all in bed."

"Go on," Minerva replied tersely. "All of you."

"You too, Professor McGonagall," Malfoy commanded. And there was no doubt that it was an order.

For a moment, there was a silent battle of wills between Headmistress and Deputy Headmistress. For a long moment, the tension was palpable. Minerva had the look of a woman who had no intention of swaying from her chosen path. Malfoy looked like... well, like a Malfoy about to pull rank or name or whatever else she needed to pull to have her way.

"Minerva..." Severus murmured, reaching for her arm. Luckily, she allowed herself to be pulled away, and the four of them exited the classroom.

The next morning, Severus had a charmed folder on his desk, containing a stack of parchment. The top parchment was a note in an elegant script:

_I have taken Professor Sprout's advice. This is your schedule, and those of the Slytherin students. Look over them, and assure that everything is in order._

Regalia Malfoy  
_Headmistress_


	9. Chapter 09: Pick Your Battles

When her eyes opened, Minerva very nearly closed them again. It took only a moment for her to remember that the reason she was so exhausted was that she hadn't come to bed until late last night, and the reason she had been so late coming to bed was because she had been up until nearly two, with Severus, Filius and Pomona, trying to rework schedules. And failing miserably. And growing increasingly short-tempered as the night wore on.

..._she has you by the balls until she tells you if you have the Defense position, Severus, and we all know it. So quit trying to kiss her ass when it isn't even present..._

She grimaced inwardly; had she _really_ said that to Severus? She owed him an apology. More than one apology, actually, if memory served her. And he wasn't the only one she owed an apology, just the one most likely to receive it any time soon. With a groan, she forced herself out of bed and into her dressing gown, casting a look at her clock. Eight o'clock.

Turning towards her bathroom, she stopped short when she saw the tray of breakfast on the table, a folder beside it. She flicked open the folder and peered inside, her lips tightening slightly as she recognized the parchments for schedules. There was a hand-written note as well, folded twice and sealed with a rich, purple seal.

_Professor McGonagall,_

_Please find enclosed your schedule for the coming year, as well as the schedules for the Gryffindor students. Look over them, and let me know if there are any conflicts that you see._

_  
Also, I will be expecting you in my office at ten this morning—you and I need to have a little chat._

_R. Malfoy._

"A little chat indeed," Minerva snorted softly, dropping the parchment back onto the table. At least it didn't appear as though the new Headmistress intended to sack her, else she wouldn't have bothered including the schedules.

Two hours later, Minerva was standing at the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office. "Willow warbler," she recited, guessing that if the password had been changed she would have been told what the new one was. As it happened, the password had not changed, apparently, for the statue moved suddenly, revealing the spiral staircase behind it. Stepping through the opening, Minerva folded her hands neatly while she waited to be conveyed to the top of the tower. When the stairs came to a gentle stop, she stepped from the passage into Regalia's office.

Immediately she was greeted by a swoop of color which came to rest on her shoulder and cawed loudly into her ear.

_Ridiculous thing,_ she thought sourly, offering the bird a finger to climb onto. The bird obligingly settled onto her hand, and she brought it around so she could face it. It was actually a beautiful bird, if she was honest about it, but she had general objections to the tropical birds flying freely through the castle. Well, through Malfoy's rooms. And why did that matter, anyway? Was it really any worse than the owls?

"Go on," she muttered, lifting her hand, and the bird took flight again, flashes of crimson and gold peering from behind the brilliant blue feathers.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall. Have a seat."

Minerva turned to regard the young Headmistress coolly, but obeyed, seating herself primly in a chair upholstered with black velvet. Seemed that the Headmistress was fickle regarding her belongings—where the previous two days her office and sitting room had been drenched in the rich tones of a jewel box, this morning the room looked much more out of place in the old castle.

The bookshelves were black, as was all the furniture, and the graceful Queen Anne table which had held the charmed folder the last time Minerva was here had been replaced by a boxy black table that gleamed as though coated with glass. Despite the general theme of black in the room, though, it was neither dark nor sinister looking. Color graced the bookshelves in the form of brilliantly-hued books, and the walls were a deep crimson with gold scrolls along the ceiling. A vase of white lilies stood in one corner, and candles burned all around. There was a gentle sound of running water, and after a moment, Minerva found the source: a fountain. The room seemed exotic, and the birds less out of place.

Regalia wore black as well—an almost liquid black silk robe with a crimson sash, and though Minerva wouldn't have thought that a woman so pale would have been able to carry off the dark color, she did not seem washed out by the contrast. But then, there was a good possibility that the young woman would look elegant in a flour sack. _Give it fifteen years, girl,_ Minerva thought uncharitably as she settled herself.

Malfoy was settled as well, her charmed folder nowhere in sight. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Professor?" she asked, and Minerva shook her head.

"Thank you, no."

"Very well. Do you know why I asked you to come?"

Minerva lifted a thin eyebrow. "Presumably to tell me that my behavior last night was inexcusable," she replied tightly.

"Ah. Yes, well, I rather assumed you knew that at the time," Malfoy said, lifting an eyebrow of her own. "Or if not last night, then certainly this morning when you woke. No, Professor, I did not call you here to discuss your words last night."

Minerva was taken slightly aback. "Then... you're not intending to place me on probation?"

"No, Professor. I am not." Malfoy sighed. "For the love of Merlin, I wish everyone would just accept that I am not Dolores Umbridge, and even if she was too much of an idiot to know that she could not run a school effectively without teachers, I am not. I'm not dismissing anyone without a good reason. And I'm certainly not going to sack you because you think I'm a bitch. You are entitled to your opinion, Professor McGonagall, though I will ask you to refrain from voicing it once the students have returned."

Minerva blinked a few times. "Then why am I here?" she asked.

"Because I was hoping that we could reach an understanding of sorts," Malfoy replied.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be blunt, Professor. I can barely find my way from the Great Hall to the Hospital wing without getting lost three times and offending two paintings. I have every confidence that I can muddle through this alone, but I prefer not to. I prefer to be able to turn to someone who has more experience, who knows something about the castle and the staff."

"Likely a wise move, Headmistress." Minerva crossed her legs at the knee and leaned back in her chair, watching the young woman carefully.

"Please, I was quite serious last night when I told you all to call me Regalia."

It didn't take a genius to see that the Headmistress had just maneuvered her into a rather uncomfortable position—there was simply no chance that after receiving such an invitation Minerva could avoid extending the same. "Very well, Regalia," she replied, resigning herself to the fact that the next time Regalia Malfoy spoke her name, she would have to insist on the use of 'Minerva'.

"Thank you."

"I will, of course, answer any questions you have. You need only ask."

Malfoy was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Very well," she said. "What do you think of Sybill Trelawney?"

Minerva blinked at that. What did she think of Sybill? Well, it depended rather heavily on what Sybill was prophesizing at the moment. When the Divination Teacher was seeing death and destruction in every dirty teacup, Minerva had a difficult time not rolling her eyes. At other times, the woman could be quite likable. "In what sense?" she asked carefully, her lips still tight.

Malfoy laughed softly. "That probably tells me as much as anything," she commented dryly. "As a colleague, let's say."

"I will not suggest you dismiss anyone on staff, so if that is what you are..."

"Did I not say very plainly that I am not dismissing anyone without good reason?" The Headmistress lifted her wand and a moment later, the charmed folder came sweeping into her hand. "I simply want to know what you think of her. Since you have such strong opinions."

Minerva sighed softly. "I think she's irritating and ridiculous," Minerva said finally. "And I think that it is scandalous that this school offers such a nonsensical class in this day and age—it's positively medieval. However, given my overall opinion of subject and instructor, I must admit she doesn't do a bad job of it, and her students seem to gain OWLs regularly, though what good it does them I can't fathom." Adjusting her spectacles, Minerva peered down her nose at Malfoy. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Mm. Yes." Malfoy was peering into her folder again and flipping past pages. She paused at another piece of parchment. "And Rubeus Hagrid?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed. She didn't know where Malfoy was going, but the little princess had best stay clear of Hagrid. "Hagrid is a loyal teacher," she said tightly. "He is something akin to an expert in his field, and he is a beloved member of the faculty." She leaned forward, her eyes flashing a challenge to the young Malfoy. "If he has a fault, it is that he is too trusting of others. He is most decidedly _not_ a target for your arbitrary..."

"I am not considering dismissing him. Here..." Malfoy waved her wand, and, to Minerva's simultaneous amusement and irritation, a glowing ribbon of light looped into an elegant script above the Headmistress' head. It blinked red and gold. 'I am not intending to sack anyone.' After a minute, Malfoy flipped to another page and glanced up. "And Rolanda Hooch?"

"She is an excellent flying teacher," Minerva replied succinctly. "She is stern and unyielding with the students, and level-headed, and they obey her. Even the ones who don't obey anyone."

"Very good," Malfoy murmured, and then flipped to the front of the folder again. She paused, spending a moment reading over something, then pointed her wand to the table beside her. "_Accio quill and ink,"_ she said softly, and the accoutrements appeared on the table. Uncapping the ink, Malfoy dipped her quill into it, then looked at Minerva again. "And Severus Snape?" she asked.

Minerva lifted an eyebrow. "He is a difficult man to understand. More difficult still to explain."

"Good enough," Malfoy said softly. "So let's try another tactic. Professor Snape has applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and I see that this is a request Professor Dumbledore has denied nine times. If you were in my position, would _you_ grant him this position?"

Minerva exhaled sharply. She'd known something was coming, but she really wasn't expecting this. And, how to answer? Truthfully? Very honestly, Minerva could say without a twinge of doubt that she would most certainly _not_ put Severus in the Defense position, but was she really prepared to tell Malfoy that? It seemed almost like choosing sides against Severus. After a long, contemplative silence, she finally sighed and frowned. "No," she replied softly. "I would not."

Malfoy nodded. "And why not?"

"For one thing," Minerva said softly, "because you'd never be able to replace him as a Potions professor. He is much better qualified for Potions than for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Yes," Malfoy said softly. "I had considered that. It does seem a rotten reason to deny him something he so obviously wants, though."

Minerva nodded. "It does," she agreed.

"Are there other reasons?"

"Well, I know this does not carry much water with you, but it means a great deal to me. Albus Dumbledore has consistently denied him the position. I don't know what the Headmaster's reasons were, but it is enough for me that he had such strong objections that he would say no that many times. Albus cared for Severus like a son," she added softly. "Trusted him implicitly. I can't imagine what would make him so adamantly opposed to Severus in that position, but I can't help but imagine they must have been very good reasons."

Malfoy frowned. "I just wish I knew what they were," she muttered. "I _hate_ doing or not doing something because someone else did or didn't do it."

Glancing around for a moment, Minerva leaned forward. "Albus said he thought it would bring out the worst in Severus, though your guess is as good as mine with regards to precisely what that means," she confided, forgetting for the moment that this woman was her sworn enemy. And, in reality, Minerva had a fair enough idea of what that statement meant, though she couldn't have expressed it, even if she was willing to give away Severus' identity.

Malfoy sighed softly and thumbed through the parchment in her folder. "If you could have anyone in that position that you wanted, who would it be?" she asked.

For a moment, Minerva hesitated. This could simply be another ploy on the part of Regalia Malfoy to win allies. Or it could be any number of leading questions. Minerva tried, briefly, to think like Malfoy, but she couldn't even begin to imagine where the question might be leading; that she knew it was likely leading somewhere was almost a miracle. And, yet...

The entire faculty had been abuzz for the last two days about the things that Malfoy had accomplished, and telescopes and crystal phials weren't the half of them. It was odd, having a Headmistress who was dedicated to the _school_ above and beyond anything else—_and how do you know that's true, Minerva?—_and, perhaps Regalia Malfoy could, indeed, pull off miracles. And Minerva knew she would never forgive herself if she did not seize this opportunity. "Remus Lupin," she answered finally. "He was the best we've had in ages, and many of us were quite distressed to see him go."

Malfoy's forehead creased into a frown. "Professor Dumbledore's notes indicate that he left for health reasons..."

"In a roundabout way, yes," Minerva replied. "He's a werewolf. News of that... slipped out among the students."

"A werewolf," Malfoy repeated softly, breathing deeply. She tapped her quill against her parchment for a moment, obviously thinking quickly.

"He is no danger to the students so long as he takes the Wolfsbane potion," Minerva offered, and Malfoy cast her eyes towards the Deputy Headmistress.

"I presumed he was no danger, since you recommended him," she said dryly, then, after a moment, "Do you know how to get in touch with him quickly?"

"Yes," Minerva said, frowning slightly. "But why...?"

"I told Professor Snape that I would have an answer for him tomorrow, and I intend to keep that promise if I can. Which means I need to speak with this Remus Lupin today, if possible."

Minerva nodded slowly. "I am sure I can arrange that," she said softly.

Malfoy stood abruptly and walked to her desk, opening a drawer and taking out a piece of parchment. She skimmed it quickly. "And do you think you can arrange letters of recommendation?" she asked, and Minerva turned in her chair, frowning slightly.

"How many do you need?"

"As many as possible. Real ones, Minerva. People who are not afraid to have their name attached to such a recommendation."

"Will two Aurors, two members of the Ministry, a former Headmaster and three current Professors suffice?" Minerva asked softly.

Malfoy tapped her finger on her desk for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I believe that might just work."

Minerva stood. "What time do you want Remus to be here?"

Malfoy glanced at the clock. "Do you think you can manage it by noon?"

Minerva glanced at the clock as well. It was already a quarter till eleven. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Yes," she replied. "Yes I can." If Regalia Malfoy could be prepared to interview Remus in an hour, Minerva would have him there.

"Excellent," Malfoy said softly. "And can you have the letters of recommendation here by four, do you think?"

"I don't know if I can have them all here by that time, but I can try."

"Good. And, please instruct whoever it is that is writing them to pretend that they are unaware that Mr. Lupin is a werewolf. No need to flaunt that to the Ministry."

Minerva paused for a minute, watching as Malfoy began writing something. "You mean to deliberately mislead the Ministry then?" she asked softly. It was too much to hope for.

Malfoy smiled brightly. "Mislead them?" she asked. "No, Minerva, I will tell them to their face everything they need to know. There will be no misleading. I have need of too many other favors from them, most likely, before I will be able to mislead them openly. That, I fear, is a card I intend to save for a more crucial moment."

Glancing over Malfoy's shoulder, Minerva watched as the quill smoothly formed long strings of what amounted to political jargon. _Pursuant to Article IX, subsection 453-b of the Ministry of Education's Fourth Treatise on the jurisdiction of acquiring of new employees, I, Headmistress Regalia D. Malfoy formally present this proposal..._

Raising an eyebrow, Minerva considered that perhaps the reason Regalia Malfoy accomplished so much so quickly was that she seemed to speak the language of bureaucracy. Minerva left her to it, slipping quietly out of the Headmistress' office and promising to herself that if Regalia Malfoy managed to get Remus a position on staff, she would personally shine the woman's shoes every morning. The price of her loyalty, it seemed, had been found.

_

* * *

A/N:_

_Incidentally, Silverthreads, yes, I do have a plot in mind, but it's surprisingly flexible. I have no intention of forcing a romance. Though I could coax one out. I know how it will end and several intermediate steps, but all of them are entirely independent of any relationships within the story, and I think I could pair up anyone in the world and come out with the same ending._

_LinZE: I thought Minerva restrained herself remarkably, actually. She really wanted to hit Regalia, but I wouldn't let her. And, it's worth noting that even if she was griping, she was obeying. That counted with Regalia, too, as evidenced by this chapter._

_Sior: wouldn't write Regalia off if I were you. She is a Malfoy after all._

_I'm really loving the shifting opinions of Regalia by the way. It's priceless!_

_--Jen_


	10. Chapter 10: Keep Them Guessing

"What am I doing here?"

Remus Lupin stared at the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office—_no, Malfoy's office—_wondering what had possessed him to do this. He had often stood in front of this statue, wondering what had possessed him to do something, and usually the answer to that question had been either 'James' or 'Sirius', though he'd not been here often in recent years. In fact, only twice in the past fifteen years, come to think of it—once three summers ago when he came to discuss a position with Dumbledore, and then that following spring, when he came to hand in his resignation.

And now? What was the answer now? Why was he here? Because Minerva McGonagall had appeared in the kitchen at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place just after breakfast, transfigured his least worn robe into something more presentable. Something with no rips or patches. He had a neatly—if hastily—penned résumé and two equally hastily penned letters of reference. Not that he was sure how much weight letters from Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley would carry with this Headmistress Malfoy.

In all honesty, he should have told Minerva to sod off. He couldn't even bring himself, in his eternal optimism, to hope that he might have a chance of a position at Hogwarts again, unless it was taking over for the likes of Hagrid or Filch. Certainly not as a professor. This was not only a waste of time, but likely to be a humiliation as well; it was simply unfathomable that he would be offered the Defense Against the Dark Arts position that he had left so abruptly not three years before. That he would be offered any position at all given the circumstances surrounding his leaving.

_Just turn around, and walk away,_ he commanded himself. If he left now, no one need ever know.

The gargoyle suddenly lurched, though, and rotated away, exposing the staircase behind it, and his sense of decency wouldn't allow him to simply turn away from it now. With a sigh, he stepped onto the lowest stair and closed his eyes, sending a prayer to any deity who might happen to be listening: _Please just let this be over with quickly._

When the stairs came to a halt and he exited into the Headmistress' office, Remus was momentarily caught off-guard. He'd apparently been expecting to find the office largely unchanged from the way Dumbledore had left it, though the expectation was probably because he hadn't considered any other possibility. Even if he had considered another possibility, he would not have expected the difference he saw. Dumbledore's astrolabes seemed to have been replaced with fountains, the comfortably cluttered bookcases with neat, black lacquer. The chintz-covered chairs that Remus could remember sitting in many a time were gone, given way to simple black chairs with clean lines. The warm glow of candlelight had been replaced with something more akin to natural light. Everything about the room was different now.

Even the birds. For as long as Remus could remember, Fawkes had sat like a guard in this office, but where his perch had once stood there was now a potted tree, and on that tree sat half a dozen brightly colored birds. Tropical birds. Birds wholly unlike Fawkes. Between keeping a wary eye on the birds and trying to orient himself in a setting that was vaguely familiar, Remus momentarily forgot that he was not alone in the room. A movement caught in the corner of his eye brought his attention to his companion, and for a moment, he was rendered speechless.

Minerva had told him that the Headmistress was young, but he had interpreted that as meaning similar to his own age. Headmistress Malfoy was _young._ She couldn't be much older than some of the students. Giving himself a mental shake, he shifted his briefcase to his left hand and extended his right.

"Headmistress Malfoy?" he asked, and for a moment she simply looked at his extended hand, and he could have kicked himself—he should have let her begin the introductions.

After a pause that he could not term a hesitation, though, she took his hand and rewarded him with a smile. "Regalia," she replied, shaking his hand with a surprisingly firm grip. "You are Remus Lupin, I presume? Professor McGonagall has told me a great deal about you."

There was a formal distance to her voice, and as she took a step back from him and her pale blue-gray eyes drifted from the top of his head to his shoes, Remus remembered very suddenly that this delicate vision was a Malfoy. It was a calculating, considering look, and he felt almost as though she were looking past the transfiguration to the patched and threadbare robe he wore. As though she knew that there were holes in his socks, and that he hadn't worked since he had given Dumbledore his resignation.

"Yes," he replied, clearing his throat. "She... ah... suggested that I come."

"Did she?" There was a flicker of something, amusement, perhaps, across Malfoy's face. "I wasn't aware that Professor McGonagall knew how to suggest anything. She strikes me as the sort who tells others what to do and expects to be obeyed."

"Ah... well, yes," Remus replied, shifting his briefcase back to his right hand. If this 'interview' was going to turn into a chance for the headmistress to insult Minerva, he didn't want anything to do with it.

"Understand, of course, that I recognize easily in others the traits I possess myself," she added with a smile that would have been warm if it touched her eyes. He filed away that tidbit of information she had offered, keeping a wary eye on the young woman. She was, without a doubt, a Malfoy, and he didn't need the pale golden hair or the delicately boned face to tell him that. She carried herself with a dignity that he had only seen in one other person, and that person was Lucius Malfoy. And Lucius was a force unto himself.

"Of course," he replied, making a mental note to guard his words with her. She was beginning to circle him slowly, her eyes taking him in and measuring him. He wondered how he measured up. If he measured up. After a long moment, she returned to where she had begun, her arms folded, and looked into his eyes. He met her gaze steadily.

"Have a seat," she invited finally, gesturing regally at one of the chairs. He sat. It was a surprisingly comfortable chair. She picked up a folder from the table between the chairs and then sank gracefully into the other one, and he couldn't help but think that she looked as though she were seated in a throne. "I presume Professor McGonagall told you that there is an opening on the faculty for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" she asked, and he nodded, keeping his eyes on her. "So you are here to inquire about the position, yes?"

"Yes," he replied, watching her warily.

"Have you a résumé?" she asked, picking up a quill and uncapping a bottle of ink. "References? Previous experience?"

Previous experience? Was it possible that she did not know? "I... taught for a year," he said slowly. "And yes, I do have my résumé." He opened his briefcase and removed the parchment, handing it to her along with two folded and sealed letters of recommendation. She glanced at the résumé for a moment, pointing her wand at the two letters as she skimmed. A moment later, she looked at the letters, frowning slightly.

"I believe I will give this one back to you," she said after a brief perusal of the letter Dumbledore had written. "It will, I fear, only hinder the process." She was looking over the other one now, and Remus felt his hopes sinking once more. If a letter from Dumbledore carried no weight, he couldn't imagine that a letter from Molly Weasley would fare much better. She did not hand it back to him, though, but tucked it into the folder she had.

"So tell me about your previous experience, Mr. Lupin?"

Surely she knew. He couldn't imagine that there were ten wizards in all of Britain who hadn't heard about the scandal involving the werewolf at Hogwarts. "I taught at Ho—"

"No, it isn't necessary I know where you were teaching," she interrupted quickly, and he almost had the impression that she was preventing him from telling her. What was she playing at? "I'm more interested in your classroom experience," she told him. "I want to know what you think your purpose is, as a teacher. What did you enjoy about it? What was rewarding?"

What did he enjoy? "Wow," he breathed. "I enjoyed every second of it," he said softly. "It was the most gratifying experience I've ever had, to see understanding dawn where there had been confusion, to see interest where there had been apathy..." He closed his eyes for a moment, transporting himself back to Hogwarts three years ago. "I don't want to speak ill of my predecessors in the position," he continued after a moment, then leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "But I think it is without a hint of malice that I can say that the students were very far behind where they should have been. I don't know all of the situation, but I do know that my third year students had never had a practical lesson to that point, and the fifth years were beginning to grow antsy, thinking they were going to have to prepare themselves for the OWLs."

"Not unlike the situation now, then," Malfoy commented neutrally, and again he searched her face for some indication of a double meaning behind that comment. He could find none.

"It was a constant challenge. The only thing the students had in common was that their formal training had been lacking, though some seemed to have a knowledge of the Dark Arts that was more advanced, and I don't even want to think about where they picked up some of it." He frowned slightly. "I regret that most of the students still weren't caught up entirely at the end of the year, so I'm sure my successor had still more catch-up work with them."

"One cannot reasonably expect years of neglect to be successfully counteracted overnight," she replied, again her voice neutral.

"Maybe not," Remus conceded, "but that didn't keep me from trying."

A brief smile pulled the corners of Malfoy's lips upward, and he was struck quite suddenly by how beautiful she was. He hadn't noticed it earlier, perhaps because he was nervous, and then reeling from the shock of her youth, and then off-kilter at the entire situation, but now that he'd noticed, it was unavoidable. She was a vision with pale golden hair and silver-blue eyes and delicate features. "I'll tell you now that such an effort would, again, be necessary," she told him, the smile fading. She opened the folder on her knee and ran a fingertip along a piece of parchment inside it. "One might as well conclude that the students effectively did not receive any instruction at all last year, and the year before, the content covered was... questionable."

Remus coughed politely. He was perfectly well-informed on the matter of who had been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts two years ago, and the idea made him shiver. What would a Death Eater have taught those children? "I see," he replied, his tone matching hers for neutrality.

"There is particular concern about this year's fifth year students," she told him, "as they, too, have had entirely too much neglected in their education to this point. In fact, in the past ten years, the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL and NEWT scores have consistently been the lowest in the school. Dismal, in fact. I have a great desire to see those scores raised to something less humiliating. How would you go about contributing to that goal?"

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Well," he replied slowly, "by and large I would rather see to their education and let the OWL and NEWT scores reflect their knowledge and skills. The ministry-mandated curriculum is, by and large, easy enough to work into the lesson plans; the last time I was teaching, I don't think there were three chapters I included that I wouldn't have had they not been required. So, I suppose that my answer is that I would do everything in my power to see the students had a solid foundation in the subject, and if they do, one can assume they will do well on their tests."

Malfoy nodded slightly, her expression still closed to him, but there was something that gave him the impression that she was pleased with his response. "Specifically, though," she persisted, "how would you prepare your fifth year students for the OWLs when two of their last four years have been a complete waste of everyone's time with regards to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and one of the remaining years was spent with a teacher who, while apparently interesting, veered frightfully far from the required skills?"

She had to know who he was. It was simply unfathomable that she knew so much about the previous teachers but failed to realize that he was one of them. "I'd instruct them on as many levels as possible," he replied. "Perhaps even run parallel lesson plans. I'd require reading and note-taking outside of class so that class time could be spent on practical applications. I'd hold them to a high standard of independent study and make it clear to them that it is their future hanging in the balance, and then we'd move through the material as quickly as possible. For the fifth year students, the class would likely take on a strictly ministry-mandated curriculum, as I'd be attempting to fit three years worth of lessons into three terms, but I believe I would be up to the task. I don't think they will be in as bad a place as my fifth year students were the last time I taught, as you said that they had, at least, had one instructor who managed to advance them, and one more who at least taught them something."

"I've had a suggestion for after-school lessons," Malfoy told him, "and I think the suggestion rather impresses me. Would you be willing to contribute additional time for such an undertaking?"

Remus frowned slightly. "Of course," he replied. "Though I would ask—would these additional lessons be voluntary or required?"

"Voluntary, of course," she replied promptly. "Though strongly encouraged."

He nodded uncertainly.

"And, I believe there would be additional help from other faculty members."

"That would be most appreciated," he replied, distantly acknowledging that he sounded vaguely as though he already had the job. But then, she was sounding as though he did as well.

Malfoy stared into her folder for a moment as though the secret of life was contained therein, a slight frown creasing her brow. After a long moment, she nodded almost imperceptibly, as though having come to a conclusion. "I believe, Mr. Lupin, that I am prepared to offer you a contract, pending verification of your references," she said at last. "I have a meeting to attend just now," she continued, "but if you are able to busy yourself until 4:30, hopefully I will be ready to discuss the terms of your employment."

Remus' eyebrows climbed almost to his hairline. "I... uh... Er, yes," he stammered. "I can be back this afternoon."

"Excellent," she said, standing, and he stood as well. She gestured towards the door, and he found himself being swept from the room. "I will look forward to speaking with you again, then."

"Headmistress," he stopped suddenly, and she lifted a querulent eyebrow. "I... there is one more thing you must know." _What are you doing, you half-brain? If she doesn't know..._ He didn't know if she did know or not, but he felt duty-bound to inform her. "I have a...condition which might present... difficulties."

She smiled slightly. "You mean," she said softly, "that you are a werewolf and you don't wish that I discover the circumstances surrounding your last departure from Hogwarts, correct?"

Of course she knew. He sighed. "In essence, yes," he replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Lupin. I must say that it bodes well for you that you saw fit to mention it. Is there anything else you think I ought to know?"

"No," he answered quietly. "There is nothing else."

"Very well then," she replied. "I shall see you at 4:30 then?"

"Yes. Thank you, Headmistress." He took a step towards the door, but a hand on his arm stopped him, and he looked down at her. She had a half-amused smile on her face.

"Tell me, Mr. Lupin, what do I have to do to get people to call me Regalia?"

One side of his mouth quirked into a smile and he laughed softly. "Earn their trust and respect," he replied truthfully.

"I was afraid you were going to say that." She let go of his arm. "Have a good afternoon."

"Thank you. You too," he offered. She turned back into the room, and picked up her folder again, and he had the distinct impression that he might as well not be there for all it mattered now. He might as well have been invisible.

He stepped onto the spiraling staircase wondering if he dared allow himself to hope.


	11. Chapter 11: Alpha Female

**Chapter 12: Alpha Female**

"Very well, then. If there is no other business?"

Of course there was none. Everyone was learning rather quickly that, unlike Dumbledore who had never had time for piddling problems, Headmistress Malfoy would take on anything from cobwebs to boggarts to pureblood prejudice. If someone mentioned a problem, a meeting was promptly scheduled to address it. A private meeting. There was no more going around the table so each of them could just generally complain in the presence of everyone about things that irritated them. It had an interesting affect on all of them.

Minerva was slowly coming to the realization that if she had an actual problem, she was certain that Malfoy would pay attention and take action. There would be no more turning of blind eyes. It would, however, have to be a serious problem indeed before Minerva would bother to schedule an actual appointment to discuss it. Where Dumbledore had encouraged trifles and discouraged more critical issues, Malfoy was already cultivating precisely the opposite. Minerva was beginning to develop a grudging respect for the woman. She didn't like her, but she was beginning to respect her.

"Very well then," Malfoy said, standing. "If any of you think of anything, don't hesitate to let me know."

There was a general scuffing of chairs against the floor and a rustling of robes and parchment as the faculty shuffled out of the room. Minerva stayed where she was, as she had another meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes anyway. And she had a folder of her own, this one containing a dozen letters of reference and recommendation. Arranging them all so quickly had been a challenge, but it was one she had met admirably.

As soon as the last of them had left, Minerva placed her folder in front of Malfoy, folding her arms across her breasts. "References," she said without preamble, and watched as Malfoy opened the folder and began sifting through them. Pale eyes scanned one, then another, then a third, and she flipped past the remainder of them, pausing here and there to peer at something.

"I believe this should do," she said finally, closing the folder. "You can assure me that Lupin is a good candidate for this post?"

Minerva nodded firmly. "Just look at the record," she encouraged. "The students responded to him in a way that they haven't to anyone prior to him or since. I don't remember the last time this school had a Defense professor who was as talented."

Malfoy tucked the folder into her charmed folder, and made for the door. "If you will excuse me, Professor. I believe I have an employment contract to draw up." Minerva watched as she slipped out of the staff room, marvelling momentarily at the gall that woman had to be writing an employment contract for a man who had not yet been approved by the Ministry. And who had a very good chance of not being approved.

Minerva was counting on Hector Humphrey to be as dull-witted as he normally was and to not realize that the prospective Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was the same Remus J. Lupin who had been announced a werewolf in cohorts with Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black. If the Ministry realized who he was, they would, of course, never approve him, but Fudge, at least, could be counted on to not remember the names of lesser mortals than himself.

Hoping that all went well, Minerva rose slowly and made her way back to her office to do a bit of final work on her lesson plans for the fast-approaching start of term.

hr

At half past four, Remus rounded the corner and brough himself into sight of the spiral staircase with gargoyle guardian. Minerva was standing there, and he smiled broadly as she pulled him into a warm embrace.

"I suppose it went well earlier?" she asked.

"Well enough. Though I daresay you already knew that. After all, how could I possibly go wrong with the Deputy Headmistress on my side?"

Minerva snorted softly. "A year ago, that might have meant something, Remus, but not now. I don't think anyone impresses that woman."

Remus laughed in an effort to conceal the sudden nervousness. "And that's supposed to reassure me, I suppose?"

"I wouldn't presume to try to reassure you of anything. I don't even think I'd necessarily want to try. Come along, then. No sense in putting this off." She turned to face the gargoyle and spoke clearly, "Willow Warbler." The staircase moved, and a moment later they emerged into Malfoy's office.

"Professor McGonagall, Mr. Lupin. Excellent. Come in." Malfoy approached them from behind, and Remus blinked, slightly startled and wondering where she'd come from. She had one of the brilliantly plumed birds on her shoulder, and after a moment of cooing to it, urged it into the air. It made a sweep of the room, wings flashing blue and gold, before settling on a sturdy-looking plant in the corner. Malfoy walked gracefully around her desk, sweeping her wand almost absently, and two chairs appeared. "Have a seat," she offered.

Remus waited until Minerva had seated herself, then took his own chair, placing his briefcase on the floor beside him.

"I trust you were able to keep yourself amused while you were waiting, Mr. Lupin?"

"Yes," he replied carefully. "I enjoyed a lengthy amble down memory lane."

Malfoy smiled, though the smile never reached her eyes. "Wonderful," she said, nodding her head. "I suppose there's no point in delaying this. If you want the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I am willing to offer a contract. Are you interested, Mr. Lupin?"

His heart leapt. "Quite," he replied.

"Very well, then. Let's discuss the terms of the contract. Given the... special circumstances," Malfoy glanced up from her enchanted folder and lifted an eyebrow in Lupin's direction, "I believe it prudent to include certain provisions to ensure the safety of our students."

"Does Remus need a solicitor?" Minerva asked suddenly. "I don't want him signing anything that he doesn't understand."

Malfoy's eyes shot back to Minerva, cold and emotionless. "Neither do I," she replied. "But if he wants a solicitor present, we can certainly delay this process until one can be present."

"It might be a good idea," Minerva replied, her lips narrowing to a very thin line. "Merlin only knows what sort of nonsense might be hidden within the legal jargon of a contract."

"A valid point, of course," Malfor responded, sitting back in her chair. "And of course one would automatically suspect the employer of subterfuge. Why don't we summon an entire _team_ of solicitors? Perhaps hold this meeting in front of the Ministry? Take every precaution to ensure that it is legal. It shouldn't make more than a few months' difference in the students' education."

"Perhaps if the employer was not intending to pull the wool over the eyes of the Minister of Magic, I would trust her a little farther with a contract!"

"Perhaps if said employer is _willing_ to put her own reputation on the line based off the recommendations of another of her employees, she might expect a little more faith as she does everything in her power to make this request happen!"

"Perhaps," Remus interrupted, feeling it might be wise to stop this escalating conversation before one of the women actually started a catfight, "we might consult the one who is expected to sign the contract and ask _his_ opinion of the matter. Why don't I go find him?" He started to rise, then stopped suddenly, slapping a palm against his forehead. "Oh! How silly of me. He's right here! Remus, what do you think? Do you need a solicitor present before you sign an employment contract?"

Minerva's eyes were narrowed, and the glower she was focusing on him was the one that made her a formidable headmistress. Malfoy, by contrast, looked to be struggling with a laugh.

"Well, you know," Remus continued, answering himself, "I'd really like to hear the terms of the contract before I make any decisions at all regarding this. And, if I do need a solicitor, I'm sure I'm capable of requesting one."

By the time he'd finished, the corner of Minerva's mouth was twitching slightly, and Malfoy had found a sudden interest in her folder again.

"If there are no further objections to my _reading_ the contract, then?" she asked, looking at squarely at Minerva.

Minerva responded only by folding her arms and leaning back in her chair.

Malfoy cleared her throat. "As I was saying," she said, her eyes flitting quickly back and forth across the page. "Given the special circumstances of this arrangement, I felt there was need of additional safety measures. I believe you will find this contract quite similar to any other here," she said, leaning forward and placing the parchment in front of him on the desk, "but I want to draw your attention to this paragraph," she pointed with a slender finger, tapping the page slightly.

Remus picked up the parchment and read it aloud. "Employee agrees to submit to regular health assessments, and on the recommendation of a health professional, or at any time when the employee, the headmistress or the deputy headmistress feel that the employee's state of health would prevent him from fulfilling his obligations as outlined in section Iv Title 453a.32 the employee's obligations to the school shall be superceded by his obligations to his own health. In addition, if the employee's supposed or reported condition poses the threat of infection or contamination to others at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the employee is required to notify the headmistress and take necessary precations to hinder the spread of said illness."

He felt his eyes crossing as he read that again. Loath though he was to admit it, he was beginning to think he might be better off wit a solicitor present.

"In essence," Malfoy said, "I have included provisions in your contract that give me the authority to terminate your employment if I feel you are a danger to the students because of your condition."

Remus nodded slightly. "Of course," he replied, sighing inwardly. He was used to such stipulations by now, though they still stung. Did anyone honestly believe he would purposely pose a threat to anyone else?

"In short, Mr. Lupin, I do not want you within twenty kilometers of this castle for forty-eight hours either side of the full moon. You will be responsible for making your own arrangements."

"Of course," he repeated blandly.

"That's preposterous!" Minerva exclaimed, breaking her silence finally. "He is perfectly safe when he takes his Wolfsbane potion, and there is no reason to force him away from the castle every month!"

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow. "The Wolfsbane potion?" she repeated.

"Yes! Tell her about it, Remus!"

He sighed. "Who is going to brew the potion, Minerva?" he asked quietly. "I certainly haven't the skill."

"Severus," Minerva replied without hesitation.

"You know he will never agree to it."

"Then Headmistress Malfoy will simply have to exercise her authority and demand it. Albus demanded it of him the last time."

"Headmistress Malfoy will do no such thing," Malfoy interrupted softly. "If you wish him to brew this potion, you may ask it of him."

"Severus will never agree without a direct order," Minerva countered. "The last time Remus worked here, it was a stipulation of his employment-- that he take the Wolfsbane monthly to prevent himself from being a threat to the students!"

Malfoy's eyes took on an icy hardness. "You expect me to make a condition on one employee that _another_ employee has to fulfill? That's preposterous, and I can't imagine what sort of idiot..."

"Watch what you say, Malfoy. You're edging dangerously close to insulting..."

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. "Minerva," he interrupted softly, leaning his head to hers. "There's really no need for you to waste your time here. I know you're busy and..."

"Nonsense, Remus. I'm not about to abandon you to muddle through this alone."

As much as he appreciated the gesture, Remus cringed inwardly. "Right," he muttered. "After all, I'm incapable of signing my own employment contracts or negotiating my own terms, and your requests and objections are all very reasonable and have only my best interests in mind, I'm sure. And there is quite obviously no personal quarrel between you and the Headmistress."

"If she had half the sense of a second year, she'd just hire you on and..."

"I think that's more than enough," Malfoy said suddenly, closing her folder. "Mr. Lupin, I apologize for bringing you here unnecessarily. Professor McGonagall, why don't you show him out."

"What did you say?" Minerva's voice had taken on a dangerous coldness suddenly.

"I said," Malfoy began slowly and distinctly, "that this negotiation is over. If I were interested in hiring someone who will be a puppet, I would find someone I could attach my own strings to. I am not, however. I need a teacher, not a pet, and I think I have seen more than enough."

Minerva leaned forward, bracing her hands on Malfoy's desk. "How dare you suggest..."

"Maybe I didn't make myself plain, McGonagall. Leave." Malfoy dropped the folder into her desk drawer and stood, pointing at the door. She looked for all the world like a queen ordering an insubordinate guard from her presence. For a moment, Minerva glared her, matching icy stare with stone stare, and finally whirled.

"Come along, Remus. I'll see you out," she hissed.

Remus stood more slowly, battling disappointment. For a moment, he'd believed that his life was going to take a turn for the better again, but it had been a foolish hope. "Go on, Minerva. I'll be there in a moment. I just want a few words with the Headmistress first."

Minerva looked doubtful, but nodded, casting Malfoy a venomous look before stalking to the spiraling staircase. Remus waited until the stairs had begun their twisting descent before he turned back to Malfoy.

"Was there something you wished to discuss, Mr. Lupin?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he replied, walking back to her desk again.

"Well?"

He glanced at the drawer she'd dropped the contract into, and for a moment he considered begging her to reconsider. He did not, though. "Minerva is a good woman," he said quietly, and Malfoy frowned a bit. "She's strong, and strong willed, and she isn't used to anyone standing up to her, but she is a good woman, and a good teacher, and a good friend. And frankly, I couldn't begin to tell you how relieved I am that she is not my enemy, because I believe she is a formidable adversary."

Malfoy folded her hands atop her desk and looked at him levelly. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked pointedly.

A faint smile flickered across Remus' face. "Because I recognize a power struggle when I see one," he replied after a moment. "And I've seen them get so far out of hand that someone gets hurt. I don't want to see the students get hurt in this one. Minerva has forgotten more than I would ever hope to know, and she has been teaching since before I was born. It has to count for something."

For a moment, Malfoy was quiet, but she did not avert her eyes. That she has been here for forty years doesn't make her right," Malfoy pointed out logically. "And that something has always been done a certain way does not make _it_ right."

Remus sank into a chair again. "It doesn't make it wrong, either," he replied softly. "Sometimes things are the way they are because the work like that. A very wise person told me once that a smart man learns from his mistakes. A wise man learns from the mistakes of others."

"Sounds like solid advice," Malfoy replied with a smile.

"Minerva McGonagall has a great deal of sound advice if you're willing to listen to her." He stood and extended a hand. "I apologize for the theatrics of this meeting, and I hope you find the person you're looking for. This school needs a Defense professor with some staying power." Malfoy took his hand, and he squeezed hers gently. It was like holding a glove made of rose petals. "I must say that I've never been refused employment by anyone so lovely," he said with a wink, lifting her hand to his lips. He kissed the back of her knuckles, and she laughed softly.

"Now I have a dilemma," she told him, and he looked into her eyes.

"What's that?"

"I was prepared to pull that contract back out of my desk just now and ask if you were still interested in the position," she replied almost off-hand, and his breath caught in his throat. "But now I'm afraid that if I do so, you'll think a bit of flattery will get you somewhere with me."

He let go of her hand. "I-" he began, but stopped, not sure what to say to that. She opened her drawer and removed the folder, laying it open on the desk again.

"Forty-eight hours either side of the full moon," she said quietly. "Twenty kilometers from the castle. You are responsible for the arrangements."

He nodded, his mouth dry suddenly.

"And Mr. Lupin, I put those clauses in your contract for a reason. I will not hesitate to dismiss you if I feel you are a threat to the students, and I have included enough maneouvering space in this contract that I do not need any particularly strong reason for it. It is, by and large, a probationary employment for the year."

"I understand," he said quietly.

"Contrary to popular belief, though, I am a fair woman. I'm giving you my word that I have no intention of holding that clause over your head unnecessarily."

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

"Do you understand, Mr Lupin?" she asked softly. "I know it looks bad, and I know I'm asking a lot, requesting that you put your faith in me on this matter. I do not want to make an issue of your lycanthropy, though. If this contract slips past the appropriate desks at the Ministry without anyone noticing that I've knowingly hired a werewolf, so much the better. If I--"

"If you state specifically in the contract that I'm to make myself scarce every month around the full moon, it's as good as admitting that you know. I understand perfectly." He leaned forward a bit. "And if you're asking me to trust you, then it's no more than I'm asking of you, is it? After all, you said it very clearly-- you're taking the word of one of your employees on this matter, and one whom you don't seem to trust implicitly."

"It isn't that I don't trust McGonagall, not that this is any of your business," Malfoy said. "It's more a matter of butting heads with her. I do trust her judgement to a large extent, and when I manage to remember that, I take her suggestions very seriously."

Remus nodded.

"You didn't tell me anything I didn't know," Malfoy continued quietly. "Just reminded me of a few things I'd forgotten." She pointed at the contract again. "Do you want to take a copy of this and look over it tonight? I would like an answer as soon as possible. Tomorrow, actually, but I'm certainly not going to rush you into anything."

Remus glanced at the contract again. "What have I to lose besides a job I won't have if I don't sign it?" he asked with a slight chuckle. "May I borrow a quill?"

* * *

_A/N: Hah! And you didn't think I was ever going to get around to updating again, did you? I sure fooled you! _

_Jen_


	12. Chapter 12: Matters of Trust

Chapter 12:  
Matters of Trust

"Professor Snape, remain, please. I'd like a word."

The rest of the faculty exchanged glances, but rose and filed out of the staff room. Minerva, particularly, seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes. It was a bit disturbing. Minerva McGonagall could stare down a viper without blinking, so when she pointedly didn't meet his gaze, it gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. She hadn't even said 'good morning' to him, which, while not necessarily upsetting in and of itself, was a departure from the norm. A departure from the norm early in the morning, which was most unusual indeed.

When only he and Malfoy remained in the staff room, she rose, smoothing her pale gray robes. She moved gracefully to stand beside him, and then paused, looking into his eyes, her ice blue eyes darting back and forth slightly, as though she were trying to read him.

"Well," she said after a moment, "it's Friday. Would you prefer to have this conversation here or shall we go to my office?"

Severus' heart lurched, but he kept his features still. "Here is fine, unless you prefer elsewhere."

"Very well," she said, seating herself beside him. There was no hint of emotion on her face; in that, she reminded him very much of Lucius, who could deliver a killing blow or a hefty donation to a charity without the faintest flicker of feeling. "I have reached a decision about the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. I have hired a new professor for the position."

He felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach, and his eyes narrowed marginally. _Fool,_ he thought miserably. _Fool for believing anything would have changed._ "Thank you for informing me of your decision," he said quietly, standing.

"Sit down, Professor. This conversation is not over."

He raised an eyebrow, his black eyes glittering dangerously. "What more is there to discuss?" he asked.

She tilted her head to one side, regarding him carefully. "Do you not wish to know why?" she asked quietly. "If I were perpetually passed over for a coveted position, I would want to know why."

He hesitated, his eyes narrowed to slits. It was the same outcome to which he had grown accustomed over the years, but this was a departure from the norm. Not once, in fifteen years, had Dumbledore offered him an explanation beyond that vague and flimsy excuse about it bringing out the worst in him. After a long moment, he seated himself again. "Very well," he said stiffly.

Her face softened a bit, to something akin to understanding. "It was not a decision I reached lightly," she said softly. "I want you to realize that. There were three factors involved, really. First, I had a recommendation for someone else, and this other person came with stellar references. I'm afraid, Professor Snape, that based on that alone, I would have found it difficult to justify accepting you for the position over one so highly recommended."

"Very well," he repeated, his lips set in a tight line. "I lost the popularity contest. Hardly a surprise."

The corner of Malfoy's mouth quirked up briefly before she smoothed her face again. "Secondly," she continued as though he had not spoken, "I must admit that I had reservations, given that Professor Dumbledore-"

"You are not going to sit there and tell me that you give a damn what Albus Dumbledore did or thought," he interrupted, an edge to his voice. "You've changed everything he has been doing here, and you have had very little regard for his opinion thus far. Do _not_ give me that rot."

For a moment, she was silent, and then she nodded. "You are quite right, Professor Snape. I have not been particularly concerned with maintaining those policies of his that I do not agree with. I do, however, pay attention when I see that he turned you down nine times in the past fifteen years. He had to have had a reason, and..."

"He had a reason for everything he did!" Severus snapped.

"I'm sure he did," Malfoy replied. "But there is a difference between opting to allow the parents to visit for a day and making a staffing decision. If I am wrong about the visitors day, then I'm sure I'll never try it again, and the lot of you will have a solid reason for protesting it if anyone else tries. If I make a mistake in my choice of a professor, though, it's a year long contract. And these students have already had enough incompetence for one lifetime. I prefer to err on the side of caution, particularly since I don't know you well enough to make such a determination of my own."

Had she just suggested he was _incompetent_? He opened his mouth to protest, but she didn't give him the chance.

"My third reason, and the most important and deciding factor, was logistical. This school is short-staffed as it is, and I could not, in good conscience, move a highly qualified professor out of one classroom and put him in another with no assurance that the move would be productive enough to offset the deficiency created elsewhere."

Severus had to think about that for a moment- the woman not only _wrote_ the language of bureaucracy, she _spoke_ it. Fluently.

"In other words," she said, leaning forward, and he bristled at the insinuation that he hadn't understood, "I've no intention of sacrificing Potions for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Had I allowed you to make that move, I would be looking for a Potions professor, and they are more difficult to come by than a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"It does not sound to me as though the decision was difficult," Severus said, folding his arms across his chest.

"I never said it was," she replied. "I said I did not reach it lightly. You are right, though. It was a very easy decision to make."

Severus sighed.

"I will offer this, though," she went on. "During our previous discussion, you said you would be willing to provide instruction outside of class hours. Would you still be willing to do this?"

He stared at her. "You want me to teach the damn course without pay after hours?"

"I am asking if you would be willing to help tutor some of the students after normal class hours, as you had volunteered to do when you were telling me how you would work to counter the deficit left by previous professors. It is certainly not required of you, I merely thought that it was an excellent idea, and if you were interested in it, it would be a good way to gain concrete experience in the teaching of the subject, which might give you an edge if the position becomes available again."

His forehead creased with a frown. "I don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "The position has been filled."

"And no one has lasted more than three years in the last three decades. And, I will confide this: I have been working on a proposal to more than double the faculty at Hogwarts. I think the current ratio of students to teachers is abysmal, and if I have my way, there will be need for a second Defense professor by the start of next term. I do not, however, intend to rush into making any additional changes to the staff unless it is strictly necessary without the benefit of many more days to explore various options."

Severus frowned. "Do you anticipate that you will be able to expand the faculty?" he asked quietly, momentarily distracted from the Defense position.

"When I was thirteen, I failed to accomplish something I set out to do," Malfoy replied briskly. "I did not enjoy the feeling. I will have the additional faculty by Christmas, or I will make Fudge miserable until he concedes."

She hadn't failed at anything since she was thirteen? Severus' first thought was that she was lying- everyone had failures. If, however, there was someone who managed to accomplish everything she set out to do, he imagined it would be Regalia Malfoy. She was, he was quickly learning, a force unto herself. His second thought was that she couldn't have had too many difficult goals if she achieved them all. Regardless, it was impressive.

"Do you think you would be interested in the extra tutorials?" she asked again, and Severus brought his mind back to their conversation.

This was something akin to dangling a carrot from a sting, and he wsn't sure he appreciated the leading question. "Who has been given the Defense post?" he asked suddenly, and her eyes widened marginally before the closed expression returned to her face.

"I had not intended to announce that until it is finalized," she replied.

"It is not final yet, then?"

"No. I am still awaiting word from Humphrey. Though I suppose it would hurt nothing to tell you. It is to be kept under the strictest confidence, though. You will be the only person at Hogwarts, save me, who knows, so if word leaks out, I will know who is responsible."

"Very well," he said testily. "Who?"

"Remus Lupin. I must say I was rather impressed with his resume and he had a good many letters of reference. And he seems to be uncontested as the most effective Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this school has seen in years."

Severus' eyes had taken on a liquid fire, and he could feel the vein pulsing at his temple as he struggled with a basic instinct to murder someone. "You do realize," he said, slowly and distinctly, his voice barely a hiss, "that Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

Malfoy sighed heavily. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I am aware of the fact."

"And I suppose you are also aware that the reason he left the last time was because he damn near killed three students?"

There was a flicker of something across her face, and Severus thought that perhaps that detail had been left out of her information. After a long moment, though, she shook her head. "No," she replied softly. "I was not aware of that."

"And I suppose I am to be required to make his Wolfsbane potion again?"

Malfoy took a deep breath. "No. I am not going to require any such thing of you. That would be rubbing salt in an open wound, wouldn't it?"

"That didn't stop Albus," he muttered.

"I am not Albus Dumbledore," she replied softly. "I am not going to require you to do anything other than teach your classes to the same high standard you have been for the past fifteen years, and to carry on your duties as Head of Slytherin. I was rather hoping you might be persuaded to mix the potion, but if you do not wish to do it, I will not press the subject."

"Whether you accept my request for the position or not, I would protest _strongly_ against his appointment," Severus said, ignoring the half-made request.

"On the grounds that...?"

He stared mutely at her, unable to speak beyond his disbelief. "On the grounds that he is a werewolf and a danger to the students!"

"He will not endanger the students."

"He will endanger them by _being_ here," Severus spat. "Whose idea was this, anyway? Minerva's?"

"This discussion is over," Malfoy said suddenly, standing.

"No, it is not. Do you have _any_ idea how idiotic this idea is?" he demanded, standing as well. "There is not a student in this school who was here three years ago who does _not_ know that Lupin is a werewolf. How do you think parents are going to react?"

The doubt flickered across Malfoy's face again.

"Hadn't thought of that, had you? What else have you not thought of? Do you really think the Ministry will approve a known werewolf?"

"Yes, that I do," Malfoy replied.

"I hope, for the sake of the students, that you are about to taste failure for a second time in your life, _Headmistress_."

"Do you think I didn't think this through?" she snapped suddenly, stepping in front of him. "I did! The terms of his contract are very strict. If he is seen within twenty kilometers of the school within two days either side of the full moon, he will be in breach of contract, and that should be more than sufficient-"

"Excellent," Severus sneered. "So he will have to actually kill a student before you realize that he is a danger. You are _very_ much like Albus Dumbledore- hell bent to do everything your own way, even if it is wrong. Now, _excuse_ me, Headmistress. I need to check my stock of ingredients for the Wolfsbane."

"I didn't think you were going to brew it," she began, but he interrupted her with a glower.

"If you are determined to put the students' lives in danger, the least I can do is brew a potion to lessen that hazard," he snapped as he stalked out of the room.

* * *

Minerva sat in her office, pretending to look over a stack of parchments, but her mind was far away from the student rosters. Her mind was back in the staff room, with Severus and Malfoy and the conversation she could just imagine was taking place. Malfoy couldn't possibly be prepared for the wrath she was going to incur by telling Severus what they'd decided, and Minerva felt vaguely guilty for that, but she couldn't allow herself to dwell on it. This decision was for the best, she reminded herself again and again. 

The minutes ticked by slowly, and soon she realized that she was waiting for the moment when her door would burst open and Severus would stalk in, full of indignant and self-righteous anger. It would be entirely justified. She played out the conversation in her mind.

How dare you betray me like that? she could imagine him saying.

I didn't betray you, Severus, she would tell him. _Don't take it personally. Remus did an excellent job when he was here before, and we needed someone who would do an excellent job again._

she would tell him. 

Don't you remember that he nearly killed me when I was a child? he would ask.

She would respond, _It is time for you to put your childhood differences aside. Those things happened twenty years ago, Severus, and you are both adults now._

She could almost hear his reply to that as well, could see the anger in his eyes. _Don't you remember that he nearly killed Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley? How could you be so irresponsible? _

This time we are going to be much more careful, she would assure him._ We already have measures in place to protect the students. We have learned from our mistakes._

Her door suddenly swung open, and Minerva jumped, opening her mouth to protest the indignation of his entering without invitation, but she stopped short, her jaw dropped. It was not Severus. It was Malfoy.

"And just _when_ were you going to tell me that this werewolf of yours has already come close to killing students?" Malfoy asked as she stepped inside, slamming the door behind her.

Minerva stared at her in disbelief. "There were extenuating circumstances…" she began, but Malfoy slammed a hand onto her desk with enough force to make her jump.

"THERE ARE NO EXTENUATING CIRCUMSTANCES WHEN STUDENTS' LIVES ARE IN DANGER!" she shouted, leaning over the desk. Minerva was hard-pressed not to back away, but she refused to present cowardice to this slip of a girl. A slip of a girl she wasn't even afraid of.

"Be reasonable, Regalia. You don't know the circumstances and…"

"I don't _have_ to know the circumstances!" Malfoy replied heatedly. "All I have to know is that he has already made attempts on the lives of students of this school and… and you're not even denying it! You're not acting surprised! You don't even have the decency to _lie_ about it!" She was shouting again.

"Lower your voice," Minerva said evenly, looking at her over the top of her spectacles.

"I will _not_ lower my voice! I want answers!"

"Be reasonable and…"

"I'M NOT THE ONE BEING UNREASONABLE!" Malfoy shouted, then spun away, her face shifting through shades of pink.

"Three years ago, Sirius Black returned to Hogwarts, and three of the students went after him. Remus attempted to stop them, and…"

"And the Wolfsbane didn't work properly?" Malfoy interrupted. "Wonderful. We're relying on a potion that is undependable."

"The potion works perfectly if taken properly, but he did not take it…"

"Then we can't depend on him to manage his condition!" Malfoy stalked back to the desk and leaned over it, bracing her hands on the surface.

"He was under duress! I told you about Sirius Black and…"

"And he is enough of a psychic that he knew Black would return and was unable to take the potion all day long?"

"Damn it, Regalia! Sirius Black was a close friend of his when they were in school, and…"

"OH! That makes me feel so much better! He can list a convicted murderer among his many references!"

"It was an accident!" Minerva shouted, standing as well and leaning forward so she was nose to nose with Malfoy. "It was an accident, no one was hurt, and it won't happen again! It was no more his fault than it was when he nearly killed Severus!"

A strange expression crossed Malfoy's face, and the color drained away from her cheeks slowly. "What did you say?" she whispered.

Minerva frowned. "That it wasn't his fault. It was circumstances beyond his control and…:"

"No," Malfoy said. "The part about nearly killing Severus."

It was Minerva's turn to grow quiet. "Severus didn't tell you that?" she asked softly.

"No," Malfoy replied testily.

"Severus didn't give you his sob story about being bullied in school and…" Minerva trailed off, her eyes widening.

"Bullied," Malfoy repeated. She straightened, and smoothed her robe, then looked away, blinking rapidly. "Remus Lupin bullied Severus Snape when they were children and nearly killed him?"

"It wasn't Remus so much as it was his friends. He was guilty by association, and Severus was every bit as bad as they were. He was far from defenseless."

"Then they were rivals," Malfoy said.

"Yes. That's a good word for it."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "You recommended a man who associates with convicted murderers," she began, and Minerva opened her mouth to protest. Malfoy didn't give her the chance. "And who has at least four near misses to his past. And who was a schooldays rival of another teacher in this school who _happened_ to be the other primary contender for this position, and you knew about all of this and _you didn't TELL ME!"_ Malfoy had started in barely a whisper, and the last was a shriek.

"It isn't that simple," Minerva protested.

"Yes it is!" Malfoy shot back. "I hope this appointment meant a great deal to you, McGonagall, because it is the _last _time I will be seeking your advice on any matter of importance in this school!" She spun on her heel and stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Minerva sat, blinking at the door and wondering what she had just done.

* * *

_A/N: Wheee! It wasn't three months before I updated this time! Aren't you proud of me?_

_I really am sorry this one goes so long between updates, and that I've been so quiet through January. Lots going on. Hopefully I'm back on track with my updates now, though._

_duj- Hrm... good question. Of course, I have my plans, and I'm sure you can guess them ;)_

_yukka- I feel so guilty now. Of all my WiPs, this is the one I update the least frequently. The others tend to get updates at least weekly. I'm going to try really hard to be better about updating this one. I have to admit that my main reason is that I have so many fics going that one has to have 'back burner' status and it's been this one for a while. But I really got into it again last night, so maybe, just MAYBE I'll be more consistent._

_cecelle- Thanks! I've been stretching my wings with Minerva a bit lately, but I can't seem to find her. I'm trying to keep her consistent within stories, at least. I do think she's rather fierce when it comes to those she favors, though._

_Liat- hopefully you'll find out what the students think in the next chapter (which I'm making excellent progress on, btw!)_

_Thank you all for your comments, and thank you for reading, even though I've been so horrid about updating this one!_

_2/8: Cecelle, thanks for pointing out the missing punctuation. It must have been a program error, because the commas and such were all in place in my saved copy._

_Jen_


	13. Chapter 13: A Few Start of Term Notices

_**-Chapter 13-  
A Few Start of Term Notices**_

_Sunday, 31 August_

It had been a week since Remus had arrived at Hogwarts, briefcase in one hand, suitcase in the other. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, precisely, but it wasn't the silence with which he'd been greeted. No one would meet his eye, not even Minerva, though she'd at least hugged him and welcomed him back. Everyone else had been polite, but distant. Severus had been so distant as to be absent entirely. He had caught Malfoy looking at him once, but when she realized he had noticed, she looked away, though not before he saw the ice in her eyes.

The castle had never seemed so empty and subdued. Even Peeves seemed to be sulking, and had lost interest in drawing mustaches on the portraits lining the second floor corridor. It was far from the effervescent atmosphere that Remus always remembered from Hogwarts, though he didn't know what the difference was. At least, he didn't know until a scant three hours before the students were set to arrive.

He was sitting in his office, a cup of tea growing cold on the edge of the desk, making a few last minute notes on the lessons he'd planned for tomorrow. Unlike the teachers who had been here for decades, he did not have a file of lesson plans to pull out at will, and he knew that he would be spending considerably more time than most of them sitting at his desk and making notes for himself so he could lecture the subject. He knew the material inside and out, but the difference between effective teaching and nonsensical rambling was preparedness.

He was putting the finishing touches on a lesson for the first years when he had the distinct impression that someone was watching him. He looked up and found Snape standing just outside his door, leaning against the frame, his arms folded, his eyes narrowed.

"Severus," he said in greeting, putting his quill aside. "Is there something I can do for you?"

For a long moment, Snape didn't say anything. When he did finally straighten, he answered in a cold voice. "Yes, as a matter of fact. You can start by staying clear of me."

Unbelievable. The retort on the end of Remus' tongue was to the effect that he wasn't the one who had sought out contact, but he kept the comment to himself, lifting an eyebrow. "I have little reason to venture into the dungeons," he replied, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms as well. "I'm sure you're quite capable of avoiding me if you don't wish to run into me."

Snape narrowed his eyes further, and Remus reflected that another hair's width and they'd be closed entirely. "I'm warning you, Lupin," he said in a low voice as he walked, uninvited, into the office. "If I see you anywhere near this castle during the full moon…"

"You needn't worry about that, Severus. It is part of my contract. I'll not be a danger." Remus couldn't quite keep the hint of bitterness from his voice that he had to have such a stipulation in the terms of his employment, but he knew he had no one to blame but himself for that.

Snape crossed the room and braced his hands on the desk, leaning forward. "If I see you during the full moon," he said in a low, measured tone, "you will not live long enough to be in breach of contract."

Remus sighed. "I suppose this means we aren't going to be calling a truce for the term," he commented quietly.

"Call it what you will," Snape replied shortly, turning sharply away from the desk again. "Just stay out of my path."

Remus exhaled slowly. This probably wouldn't be a good time to inquire about the possibility of Snape brewing the Wolfsbane for him, though he did intend to ask about it as soon as the Potions master seemed to be in a more agreeable mood.

"If there are any changes to the specifications of your Wolfsbane, you may leave me a note before Tuesday. Otherwise, I will leave it for you in the staff room on Wednesday morning."

Snape was gone before Remus had the chance to say anything at all.

It was nearing nightfall when a soft knock interrupted Remus and he looked up. Minerva was standing there in her emerald robes, and at least she was meeting his eyes this time. He smiled and gestured for her to come in.

"I believe I owe you an apology," she said without preamble.

"What ever for?" he asked, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

She sighed and settled into the chair in front of his desk. "For putting you in this position," she replied quietly. "I fear I'm largely to blame for the cool reception you've had."

He folded his arms and shook his head. "I don't understand."

Minerva glanced away, then took breath. "I'm afraid Malfoy wasn't terribly pleased to discover that the professor she hired was a boyhood rival of another of the staff members." She folded her hands in her lap. "You do know that Severus wants this position, and he applied for it again, of course. She was rather unhappy to learn she'd overlooked him in favor of one of his enemies."

Remus smiled a bit ruefully. "I suppose I've grown accustomed to Dumbledore's willingness to overlook such things."

"I think we all did," Minerva said softly. "Severus is quite upset, you know. He hasn't said ten words to me all week."

"I knew something was going on," Remus replied. "It would take a blind man not to notice the tension."

"He'll get over it," Minerva said, sounding rather like the stern professor she was; Remus could almost hear the 'or else' lingering unspoken.

"I take it that Malfoy is rather firmly on his side in these matters, then?"

"I wouldn't give her credit for being on anyone's side, in _any_ matter," Minerva muttered. "She's really being quite unreasonable if you ask me. So far, I don't think she's seen fit to leave anything alone."

Remus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. If his memory served, there were plenty of things that could have been changed for the better in this school, but everyone had agreed that Dumbledore had more important things on his mind. "Maybe everything will work out all right in the end," he suggested optimistically. Minerva snorted in response.

"I need to go. The students will be here any minute."

Remus nodded and stood, giving his robe a careful swipe with his hand. "I'll see you at the feast then," he said with a smile, walking Minerva to the door. She wasn't halfway down the corridor when another figure appeared from the other direction. Dressed in a shimmering white robe, the new Headmistress was as easy to pick out as a cardinal in the snow.

"Professor Lupin," she said, inclining her head formally as she walked past him without slowing.

"Headmistress," he replied to her back. She stopped halfway down the corridor and turned around, coming to a halt in front of him.

"You are going to change your robe before the feast, aren't you?" she asked, giving him a discerning look.

He felt a heat creeping into his face. "I'm afraid this is the best robe I own," he replied with as much dignity as he could manage. The robe was clean, unwrinkled, and only patched in one place, which was near the hem at the back. The sleeves might have been a bit frayed, and there was a button missing, but it was far less shabby than anything else he possessed.

" i Lautereus obvolvus /i !" she said quietly, waving her wand gracefully at him. The robe took on a crisper, neater appearance, the patches fading into the fabric and the frayed hems mending themselves. She pocketed her wand and looked at him again. "As long as you are representing this school as a teacher, you will be presentable, Professor Lupin," she said flatly. "Tomorrow, you will go to Hogsmeade and purchase two new robes."

His face continued to burn at the chastisement. "It has been years since I've had the money to spend on clothes," he pointed out quietly.

She lifted an eyebrow. "I'll give you an advance against your first month's salary," she replied. "If you were a footman, I would expect you to be well groomed. I certainly expect that much of my faculty."

He bristled slightly. "Don't you think there are more important things to be worrying about?" he asked. "Quality of the education, for instance?"

She gave him a level look. "If I were your student," she said plaintively, "I would not be hard pressed to respect you if it were so obvious that you had so little self pride that you could not be bothered with your appearance."

"I told you I have never been able to afford…" he began, but she held up a slender hand, her mouth set.

"And that is no longer an excuse," she said. "You are employed, you will have a regular paycheck, and you _will_ be well-dressed. Is that quite clear, Professor?"

Still bristling at the chastisement, he straightened. "Crystal," he replied.

She turned and continued down the corridor, and he was hard pressed not to ask if he'd been dismissed to be about his business.

* * *

Massaging her temples, Hermione sank gratefully against the seat of the coach and closed her eyes. Unlike most of the prefects, she took her position very seriously, and she'd not been inclined to turn her head when she saw a quartet of fourth years telling a frightened-looking first year that the sorting ceremony was going to be a grueling and painful experience. It had taken five minutes to calm the trembling child, and another ten minutes to explain to the fourth years why they should not be tormenting new students. Appeals to compassion and logic had not worked, but a threat to tell McGonagall _did._

"All right there, Hermione?"

Her nose wrinkled at the sound of Ron's voice. He could have at _least_ had the decency to help her, but he was too busy laughing at the fourth years' jokes.

"So," Ginny asked as she settled in beside Hermione, "do you think McGonagall will be Headmistress since Dumbledore was sacked?"

"Of course," Hermione replied. "That's why they have a Deputy Headmistress, so that if something happens to the Headmaster, there's someone there to take his place."

"I wonder who will be Deputy then?" Harry speculated as he nudged at Ron, urging him to budge up.

"Probably Snape, knowing our luck," Ron replied miserably.

"Maybe it will be Professor Sprout," Hermione speculated. "Or Professor Flitwick." Even as she suggested Flitwick, she knew that was a laughable suggestion. He simply didn't have the presence for the position. She suspected Ron was right, and as much as she disapproved of the way the boys talked about Professor Snape, she was rather inclined to agree with the sentiment—if he was Deputy Headmaster, it was likely to be an even more rotten year than they'd expected.

They'd all been shocked to discover that Dumbledore had been sacked, and to make matters even worse, they weren't supposed to know about it. The only reason they did was because the twins had found a way to get their Extendable Ears past the Imperturbable Charms on the kitchen door and they'd overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about it.

"Probably Snape," Ginny muttered. "I feel sorry for the first years. He'll scare them witless before they even have the chance to be sorted." They spent the rest of the carriage ride in silence.

When they were all settled at the Gryffindor table, Hermione peered at the staff table. Lupin was sitting near one end, the expression on his face somewhat less affable than she was used to seeing. Professor Snape was there, as were Flitwick and Sprout. Trelawney, Vector, and Sinastra were all there, as were Hooch and Hagrid. Dumbledore's chair was empty, and so was the one beside it.

"Wonder where McGonagall is?" Ron asked, leaning his head onto his hand.

"Maybe she's still in charge of the Sorting," Ginny speculated. Hermione glanced at her, and saw that she was busily staring at the teachers' table as well.

"If she's Headmistress, I wonder who's teaching Transfiguration…" Harry also seemed to have picked up on the fact that there were no new faces at the table.

"Maybe they haven't found anyone yet," Hermione suggested, though she doubted her own words.

"Maybe she'll give us less homework then," Ron said, seeming to brighten a bit at the prospect. Hermione glowered at him, and went back to studying the table.

"They don't look very happy, do they?" Ginny asked.

"No, they don't," Hermione agreed. "I wonder what's wrong."

A side door opened and a woman stepped sideways into the Great Hall, closing the door behind her. She was very thin, with pale blond hair and a delicate face, and she might have been pretty if she didn't look so cold. There was something about her expression though, and combined with the white robe she was wearing, Hermione couldn't quite dislodge the image of an ice queen from her mind.

"Suppose that's the new Transfiguration teacher?" Harry asked, peering intently. "She looks familiar."

Ron squinted too, but shook his head. "I don't think I've ever seen her before."

She paused behind Professor Snape's chair and bent, whispering something to him, and his expression tightened considerably as she straightened. Whatever she'd said, he was apparently unimpressed. "That's odd," Hermione murmured, but she hadn't the time to elaborate as the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor McGonagall came in, leading the first years.

Hermione watched the new students filing in and attempted to catch the eye of the one who had been the victim of fourth years' teasing, but all of the new arrivals were either too busy being awed at the charmed ceiling or looking as though they were about to wet themselves out of fear. When the students were gathered at the front of the hall, Professor McGonagall called out above the chatter and commotion, and everyone fell silent as she placed the Sorting Hat on the stool.

After a brief pause, the hat's brim opened and its new song filled the hall.

"_Our story begins a thousand years past,  
__The school was new and a sight to behold—  
__The founders desired to see their world last,  
__Two witches, two wizards, one dream, one goal._

_They devoted their lives to this grand dream  
__And built into these walls their hearts and souls  
__And sealed all the cracks with designs and schemes—  
__The result could not be measured in gold._

_They were visionaries, the founders four,  
__And even as their school flourished, they knew  
__That time would bring change, and change would bring more,  
__And embracing change is how this school grew._

_Some things, however, will never be changed,  
__And how I choose where to put you is one;  
__For ages, this ritual has remained  
__The way students are placed where they belong._

_If yours is a heart courageous and true,  
__Gryffindor House is the right place for you.  
__If your mind is given to intellect,  
__Ravenclaw will likely be your best bet.  
__Those with ambition and cunning to spare  
__Shall look to Slytherin for like minds there.  
__For those who fear no work and seek no fame  
__Hufflepuff'll welcome you to share their name._

_Rest easy and know that while change is in store,  
__Some things that are constant, and this rite is one.  
__I'll choose for you one of the houses four,  
__Exactly the way I have always done._

Hermione exchanged glances with Harry and Ron as they clapped politely for the Sorting Hat's song.

"What do you suppose that meant?" Harry asked.

"I think perhaps we'd best be prepared for surprises," Hermione whispered in reply.

"Abbot, William!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out as clearly as it ever had, and a frightened-looking boy with sandy hair tiptoed cautiously to the stool.

The hat settled onto his head, and after a brief hesitation, proclaimed loudly, "RAVENCLAW!"

"Amos, Abigail!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"I wonder what kind of change the Hat was talking about," Ginny murmured.

"Anderson, Oliver!"

"Well, obviously Dumbledore isn't here anymore," Ron pointed out, and Hermione sighed.

"Obviously," she whispered. "But that wouldn't require a warning like that from the Sorting Hat, would it?"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Florence Anthony went into Hufflepuff, and Nicholas Arrington into Slytherin, and finally, Katherine Barber received a raucous roar from the Gryffindor table and Jasper Bates was close on her heels. When the commotion had settled a bit, Hermione glanced at the High Table again and frowned a bit. The woman they'd assumed was teaching Transfiguration was nowhere to be seen, and the only two empty places were the throne Dumbledore had always occupied and the chair to its right, where McGonagall had always sat.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Who was that?" Ron asked suddenly, squinting. "I'm trying to remember everyone's names but…"

"Myrna Boswell," Hermione answered as she joined in the cheering.

The Sorting dragged on and on, and Hermione passed the time studying the teachers. Snape was scowling, and that was hardly unusual, but it _was_ unusual to see such a frown on Professor Sprout's face. Everyone seemed to be a little more subdued than usual, and there was a tightness on all the faces that Hermione wasn't accustomed to seeing. By the time Estelle May was sorted into Hufflepuff, Hermione had decided something was very definitely wrong, and by the time Anthony Webber joined the Slytherin table, Hermione had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Stanley Young was the last to be sorted, and as he settled at the Gryffindor table, Hermione realized she was holding her breath.

McGonagall removed the stool and hat to one side of the Great Hall and moved in front of the table. "May I have your attention please?" she called, and the chatter slowly subsided, heads swiveling towards her. When she was satisfied that she had everyone's attention, McGonagall continued. "Before we begin our feast, I would like you all to join me in welcoming our new Headmistress, Regalia Malfoy."

The blond woman stepped forward amidst whispers from the students.

"_Malfoy_?" Ron hissed at the same time Harry whispered, "I _told_ you she looked familiar."

Hermione felt as though her stomach had just been filled with lead, and she could barely swallow, visions of being expelled for being a 'Mudblood' filling her mind. All over the Hall, students were having the same mixed bag of reactions. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were whispering frantically, the Slytherins suddenly abuzz. The Gryffindor table was a nest of outrage.

The sound of wood scraping against stone drew Hermione's attention back to the Head table—Professor Lupin had stood and began clapping, and a moment later, the other professors followed his lead, and the students took their cue from the teachers, applauding politely.

The new Headmistress raised her hands, a distant smile on her face. "Thank you," she said, gesturing as though she were patting down the applause. If the delayed reaction offended her, she didn't show it. "And thank you, Professor McGonagall," Malfoy said, and Hermione had the distinct impression that something passed between the two women.

"First off, I want to welcome you all back for another year at Hogwarts. I have a list of things I'm told I need to announce." She unfolded a piece of parchment and peered at it. "First, Mr. Filch requests I remind everyone that there is to be no magic, no dueling, no broomsticks, no dungbombs, no firecrackers, no swamp charms…" She trailed off and turned to look at Filch. "Good heavens. Swam charms?" she repeated, and a few snickers rose from the students. She shook her head and peered at the parchment again. "Behave in the corridors," she said. "And I will distribute this list to each of the common rooms and that should be sufficient. I hope that you are all aware that there is to be no scuffling in the corridors, though. That is really common sense."

Hermione avoided looking at Ron and Harry. Common sense? At Hogwarts? Nothing about Hogwarts made sense.

"I am also to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is… Forbidden." She shot a sideways glance at McGonagall, who sat expressionless, just like the rest of the teachers. "I also have a note here that…" she trailed off and frowned at the parchment, then folded it and placed it in her pocket. "Everyone behave and use the brains you were born with. I daresay you all know what is expected of you by now, but in case you do not, you will hear more of this tomorrow." She sat abruptly in her chair. "Thank you all for your attention," she said, and folded her hands in her lap.

There was a moment's pause, and then McGonagall leaned over and whispered something to the new Headmistress. A look of understanding crossed Malfoy's face, and she stood again, spreading her hands. "Let the feast begin," she said, and the food appeared on the tables.

* * *

_A/N: aren't you proud of me? That's two updates to this story in one week! _

_Cecelle: Thanks for pointing out the punctuation goof. I guess it was a program malfunction, because all the commas and such were in place in my word document. I don't know. I'm glad you continue to find one-liners that amuse you. You're right, Regalia is a bit of an overachiever (all right, more than a bit) ;)_

_duj: I imagine he has, too, but now the question might be what **he** thinks of her. I'd imagine she's gone down a bit in his estimation. And once again, I think we're on the same wavelength regarding Dumbledore- I've never been particularly impressed with him as a Headmaster, and I'm sure that shows._

_ante.albus Carnivore: Thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're enjoying._

_Iphi: lol. You seem awfully sure she's going to get her comeuppance (watch this space ;) I'm loving all the different reactions I'm getting! I'm so glad some people still hate little miss Malfoy ;)_

_Lou: Thanks for the comments! Hopefully I'm back on track updating regularly again. As far as Malfoy v Minerva... hrm._

_yukka: Thanks for the comments! I'm glad you think it's worth it even if it isn't updated as often as I'd prefer._

_Labidolemur: Thanks for the comments and encouragement! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Looks like I can add you to my list of people who think Dumbledore is a rotten Headmaster in a realistic sense. I think you've described perfectly how I'm trying to portray Regalia- she certainly has the students' best interest in mind, and that is her top priority. And yes, not being used to some of the nonsense that goes on at Hogwarts (and I have to say that from a real life perspective, I do think a lot of nonsense goes on in that school) her reactions are going to be a bit more pure. (see scene above regarding the 'reminders' at start of term... does anyone else think it's ridiculous that Dumbledore has to remind the students EVERY YEAR that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden?) Anyway, thanks for the comments!_

_In fact, thanks to all who are reading and commenting. I have to admit that the reviews help to keep this fic in 'front burner' status with my other WiPs demanding so much of my attention._

_-Jen_


	14. Chapter 14: Enough is enough

**Chapter 14:  
****Enough is Enough**

The feast dragged on with something less than the usual effervescence, and even those who did not take joy in such foolishness were left with the impression that something was not quite right about all of this. Severus was one of those who was something less than impressed with the atmosphere of the feast, though that was likely due in part to his still-smarting sense of pride—Malfoy had paid him a visit in his office two hours before the students were due to arrive and had _suggested_ in no uncertain terms that he might want to do something about the state of his hair. He'd come close to ignoring her thinly veiled order, but had finally decided that to do so would be petulant in the extreme. Still, it grated at his dignity to be told to 'wash up' as though he were a small child being caught playing in mud puddles.

If anything were a balm to his wounded pride, it was the fact that several other members of the staff seemed to have had similar orders dispersed to them. Even Hagrid's wild appearance was somewhat more tame than Snape had ever seen it.

A dull throbbing had been developing steadily behind his right eye, and by the time dessert plates were being scraped of the sweet crumbs, a drum corp would have been hard pressed to match the pounding in his head. At least the day was almost over. He was looking forward to seeing the Slytherins settled and then finding his own bed, and if all went well, he had every hope he could be nestled into his pillows before eleven.

Every hope, that is, until _Headmistress_ Malfoy caught Minerva and him as they were leaving and said in a low voice, "Please inform everyone that we will be meeting briefly in the staff room in fifteen minutes."

For a moment, Severus forgot how utterly pissed off he was with Minerva, and she apparently forgot how exasperated she was with him, because they exchanged a glance that spoke as eloquently as ever.

"Headmistress," Severus began with exaggerated patience, "the students have just arrived after a lengthy journey aboard a train. They have not been allowed to do magic all summer, and many have been separated from their friends for the past six weeks. Do you not think it wise to dispatch the faculty into the corridors against the possibility of mishaps?"

"There are a number of things we need to discuss and I prefer to get it out of the way immediately. The prefects can see to the newer students."

Severus folded his arms, his eyes narrowed at Malfoy's back as she disappeared through the door.

"Isn't this just _ducky_," Minerva muttered, then gestured vaguely to the teachers on the left. "You spread the wonderful news to them, and I'll see if I can't catch the others." Severus snorted. Flitwick and Vector had left the Great Hall together, chattering animatedly, and Severus could just imagine that nothing short of a bucket of water over their heads was going to alter their course. Scowling darkly, he turned back into the Great Hall.

"Malfoy wishes a word," he said succinctly as Pomona and Sybil came to a halt a few steps in front of him. "We are to be in the staff room in fifteen minutes."

"This is preposterous!" Pomona exclaimed. "We have students to settle in. What can _possibly_ be so crucial that it cannot wait until tomorrow?"

"I have no idea," Severus replied. "Perhaps she now wishes to discuss the state of repair of the students' book bags."

There was a faint ripple of snickers and snorts, though it was only a pause in the general grousing and grumbling. Everyone started towards the staff room, though, and as the last of the faculty filed past him, Severus fell in behind. A few steps down the corridor, Lupin slowed and fell into step beside him.

"I am certain that I told you to stay out of my path," Severus said quietly, barely keeping his voice civil.

"You did," Lupin replied, indifferently. "But at times colleagues have need for a word. Why is everyone so bothered about a staff meeting?"

Severus gave him a withering look, and for once it had nothing to do with who the other wizard was. "Give it a week," he advised, "and you'll understand perfectly." He quickened his pace and outdistanced Lupin.

In fifteen minutes, the faculty was all gathered in the staff room with one notable exception. Regalia Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. The professors' postures spoke volumes of their opinions of this impromptu gathering—none of them was particularly pleased to be there, though some hid the fact better than others.

Minerva sat drumming her fingers on the table; Pomona kept glancing at her pocket watch, then looking in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room; Filius sighed every few seconds and watched the door; Severus sat with his arms folded, his lips set in a tight line, shaking his head every so often.

"It's been fifteen minutes," Pomona announced needlessly as she snapped her watch shut again. "Where is she?"

"Probably patrolling the corridors and looking for statues that are misbehaving," Minerva muttered.

"Really," Pomona grumbled. "What can possibly be so important? I can only imagine the trouble some of the students will get into while we're all sequestered in here."

"I mentioned that," Severus said stiffly. "Malfoy seems to be under the impression that the prefects are capable of handling whatever might arise."

Rolanda Hooch snorted gracelessly. "I thought Fudge said she had teaching experience," she mumbled.

"This is ridiculous," Pomona said, standing and walking to the door. She opened it and peered out, then slammed it again. "We need to be settling the students, not sitting here waiting for the Headmistress to decide to attend the meeting _she_ thought was so necessary!"

"Calm down, Pomona. The prefects can, at the very least, get everyone settled," Minerva said, massaging her temples.

Pomona and Severus both glared at her. "Perhaps if you trusted a little less to your prefects, Gryffindor would not hold the distinction of the worst-behaved House in Hogwarts," Severus said sharply.

"The Slytherins are hardly angels," Minerva pointed out.

"And, being aware of this fact, I take my duties as Head of Slytherin very seriously and…"

"Will you two _please _stop arguing?" Pomona snapped. She looked at her pocket watch again. "If Malfoy isn't here in five more minutes, I say we leave her a note with our apologies. She cannot expect us to…"

Whatever Pomona had been saying was cut short by the door opening and Malfoy walking in, her head lifted regally. "My apologies," she said as she shut the door and took her seat. "It appears that the staircase I have been using doesn't always lead to this corridor."

"Very well," Minerva said testily. "Can we get on with it now?"

Malfoy looked vaguely affronted, but nodded. "Of course," she replied, producing the deceptively thin folder. More than one of the staff was eyeing it warily.

"There are only three things. First, I have made copies of the rules, and I want each of you to spend the first fifteen minutes of each of your classes tomorrow going over them with your students. I think some of them are simply preposterous, and some of the records from previous years indicate that students do not take them seriously. I want you all to impress upon each and every student that these rules are not to be broken, and that disobeying them _will_ result in punishment." As she spoke, she handed a copy of the rules to each of them. To Severus' mild surprise—though why he bothered to be surprised at anything Regalia Malfoy did was beyond him—the rules were nearly eight pages long. As he flipped through them, he found line after line of neatly penned sentences beginning with the words 'Students shall not'.

"Secondly—"

"You want _all_ of us to go over these with _all_ of our classes?" Minerva interrupted her.

"Yes."

"That's ridiculous. Surely once is more than enough."

"It obviously has not been in the past," Malfoy replied. "There will be no excuse for disobedience. I want you to go over the rules with _all_ of your classes."

Minerva rolled her eyes slightly, but turned the stack of parchment face down on the table in front of her.

"Are there any other questions regarding these rules?" Malfoy asked. No one spoke up. "Very well, then. The second thing I wanted to discuss. I was thinking about the schedules at dinner and—"

"If you think we're revising timetables again, you're sorely mistaken," Minerva said through clenched teeth. "I don't care if I have a class scheduled at the bottom of the lake. Those tables are not changing at this point."

A murmur of agreement rose from the table, and Malfoy frowned slightly, looking at the parchment in her hands. "I was merely going to propose a few minor changes. For example—"

"Is anyone scheduled to teach two classes at once?" Severus asked, taking it upon himself to interrupt this time.

"Well, no, but…"

"Is anyone scheduled to teach a class that is not theirs?"

"No…"

"Do we have two classes being taught in the same classroom at the same time?"

"No. But—"

"Then frankly, Headmistress, I am of the opinion that the timetables are perfect the way they are."

"Agreed!" Pomona said briskly.

"I'll second that."

"Absolutely."

"No need to change them."

"Maybe we should listen to—" Lupin began, but before Severus could do more than glower at him, Hooch interrupted.

"Shut up, Remus."

A wounded look flickered across Lupin's face, but that was nothing compared to the expression on Malfoy's face. For once, Severus couldn't have cared less what Lupin thought, one way or another.

"Very well," Malfoy said quietly. "We'll discuss the timetables… later. The last thing I wanted to discuss was the students' dress. It really was abominable this evening. I want everyone to make a concerted effort to see that the students are properly dressed at all times."

Severus turned his mind back to the feast, a frown creasing his brow as he tried to remember what would have been so offensive about the way the students were dressed. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary—the students were wearing their black robes, and if any of them hadn't been, he certainly hadn't noticed. Which meant it unlikely anyone wasn't wearing their uniform properly.

"What are you talking about?" Tempora asked the question on his mind, and on the minds of several others around the table if expressions were any indication.

"Wrinkles, frayed hems, faded robes. Some of the students looked generally shabby and—"

"That is enough nonsense for one evening I think," Minerva said suddenly. "Really, Malfoy. If you haven't enough to keep you busy, come see me and I will set you to marking homework. This is enough."

Malfoy's eyes widened marginally at the tone Minerva was using, and she wasn't the only one who was slightly wide-eyed at the table. Severus exchanged glances with Pomona, who suddenly appeared a bit more interested in the staff room than the door.

"Minerva," Filius said nervously, reaching for her sleeve. "Perhaps you'd better…"

"No," she said firmly. "I have had quite enough. The meetings were preposterous before school started, but this has reached a new level of absurd."

Regalia's face tightened slightly. "I have been very understanding so far, but this—"

"You have been a royal pain in the arse," Minerva snapped. "And enough is _enough_. Dress code and time tables. Classes start tomorrow, and if you're not aware of it, that means that you will have more than enough to keep yourself occupied without calling useless meetings and wasting our time with drivel. This meeting is over. We all have plenty to do, and if you do not, then I suggest that you go to the library and find yourself an interesting book."

Minerva stood, smoothing her robes, then looked around the table. "Well?" she asked. "You all heard me. This meeting is finished."

"I have not dismissed you," Malfoy said pointedly.

"I'd like to see you keep us here," Minerva retorted. Severus attempted to catch her eye, but she was too busy squaring off with Malfoy.

"This time you are going too far, and I will not have this kind of insubordination."

"Are you going to sack me?" Minerva challenged, and Severus kicked her ankle, earning himself a glare for his trouble. "Don't you sit there and look superior, Severus Snape, and don't you pretend that you're thrilled to be here."

"No, I am not thrilled to be here, but I know when to keep my mouth shut," he replied pointedly. For a moment, the tension in the room shifted to a tension between Snape and McGonagall, both of whom were glaring levelly at each other.

"Sit _down_, Professor McGonagall," Malfoy said sharply, slicing through the tension. Her voice carried an ice-cold edge as sharp as a knife's blade, an edge Severus recognized from years of having heard Lucius Malfoy's voice take on that edge. He looked away, his arms still folded across his chest; if Minerva was going to make a fool of herself, it wouldn't be out of pride over this staring contest.

The silence was weighty, pressing down on the room like a blanket suffocating a fire.

"Allow me to rephrase then," Malfoy said quietly. "Either sit down, or leave. You have disrupted this meeting for long enough."

Minerva snorted. "These meetings have disrupted this school's functionings for long enough," she retorted. "And leaving is precisely what I had intended to do. As I said, this meeting is adjourned." She stepped away from her chair and shoved it back under the table. As she glanced back at the remaining staff members, there was a tightness to her expression that said she understood perfectly what she was doing.

She stalked towards the door and left, and it took only a glance around the table to see that everyone was considering their options. On the one hand, there wasn't a witch or wizard in that room who didn't want to do precisely what Minerva had just done. On the other hand, it was already clear that Malfoy was quite put out with the Transfiguration professor. There was a general desire to support Minerva, to make a show of solidarity, but to what cost? Regalia Malfoy had proven herself more than capable of doing what others would have barely considered possible, and whether they liked the changes or not, not one of the teachers could have said with any degree of confidence that the Headmistress would not be capable of dismissing the lot of them and replacing them by morning.

Finally, Rolanda stood. "Well, since no one seems to have anything else to add, I guess the meeting really is over."

As though this were the cue they had been waiting for, Vector and Sinastra joined her. Pomona was next, though Severus suspected that her departure had more to do with her desire to get to the Hufflepuff common room before the students had a conniption fit.

One by one, the remaining staff excused themselves, until only Severus and Lupin remained. Severus stood and cleared his throat. "The staff will only tolerate so many meetings. It is one thing to humor you in the summertime when no students are around, but another thing entirely during the school year. You cannot expect us to spend every spare minute in this staff room."

Malfoy sat staring blankly at the wall, her lips set in a thin, tight line.

"You told me that you have failed at very little in your life, Headmistress. Do not be surprised if your failures soar to heights you never thought possible by the end of the term." He glanced at Lupin, who was still sitting at the table, looking bewildered. Severus gestured for him to stand as well, and after a hesitation, Lupin did. "I have found in my life that the times when I have failed the most miserably and publicly, upon careful examination of the failure, I have brought it upon myself and been fortunate to fail."

"You think I should just allow everything to go on the same way it always has." She didn't even look at him, and her voice was flat.

"I think you should consider carefully what you wish for," he replied. "There is a magic in this school, and it has nothing to do with spells and wands." He opened the door and gestured for Lupin to preceded him into the corridor, then closed the door firmly behind them.

"What has happened here?" Lupin asked quietly.

Severus frowned at him, wavering between telling Lupin to sod off and answering the question. He settled on answering the question for the moment. "Regalia Malfoy has yet to realize that her role is no longer that of teacher. She is attempting to manage the staff the way she would manage a classroom, and she is expecting the same unquestioning obedience she would expect from students. I don't think she understands her duties as Headmistress."

"What should she be doing differently?"

"Spending more time worrying about keeping peace among the staff," he replied promptly. "Fostering a sense that she supports us, heading the unified front that we should be presenting to the students. Have you ever considered what would happen if a thousand students figured out that our authority over them is contingent on their believing that we have authority…"

Lupin nodded. "The entire staff combined couldn't subdue the first years," he finished.

Severus nodded jerkily. "She is creating friction where it need not exist. Perhaps there is a reason for her—she is young and inexperienced. It does not excuse it, but it explains it. Minerva, on the other hand, is simply being a dunderhead. She knows better, and she's certainly doing her part in responding to Malfoy's baiting."

Lupin cleared his throat. "Listen, Severus. I know that you and I have had our differences. I'm hoping we can put some of that aside in favor of cooperating as colleagues."

"Certainly," Severus replied, and as a slow smile broke out over Lupin's face, Severus continued. "So long as you stay away from me, we can certainly 'cooperate' from opposite ends of the school. Stay out of my path, and there will be no friction from me."

Before Lupin could respond, Severus quickened his pace and veered down a corridor, stalking towards the dungeons.

* * *

_A/N: I promise that I am trying to give this story equal time to the others I have going. My muse is a busy little critter lately, flitting among all my WiPs._

_Excessively perky: lol. I'm sure everyone has some opinions about that school, and I agree with you entirelythere are many changes that need to be made._

_Yukka: Thank you! I fretted over the sorting hat song!_

_Iphi: Since I read your review, I've been debating whether or not to really answer it or to just let the story speak in regards to the war and its place in the school and the story. I'm leaning towards the latter. So far, we've only covered about two weeks, and those have been two weeks during the summer. Certainly the events of the times will be making an appearance again now that the students are back._

_As for not liking Malfoythat's certainly your prerogative! There is plenty to dislike about her. She has all the tact of a broomstick ;)_

_Lou: I'm sorry it took me a month! Hardly record time! As for Remus... well, as you can see from this chapter, he isn't the only one she was 'picking on'._

_duj: As usual, you have quite an insight into what's happening between the lines. Regalia is not accustomed to apologizing, and she is not impressed with the lies of omission on Lupin's and Minerva's parts. At the same time, though, she more or less stopped Lupin from telling her something when she was interviewing him. Presumably he was going to admit that he was a werewolf, but how much more would he have 'fessed up to if she hadn't stopped him? I do think the students are going to notice changes. Now, whether they're changes for the better or worse, that remains to be seen._

_cecelle: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the characters as I portray them. I liked Snape telling Lupin to stay out of his way, too, and I giggled as I wrote it._

_April: I know, I know. I need to get my butt in gear and get this moved over to Lumos. I agree about it in generalSH is more stable and faster and the lack of ads alone is enough to tilt my opinion in that direction. As for the shoe that's waiting to be droppedit's in the wings. _

_Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, or just read! I'll try not to go a month without posting again (time just slips awayI really didn't realize it had been so long.)_

_Jen_


	15. Chapter 15: Establishing the Routine

**Chapter 15: Establishing the Routine**

"Settle down," Severus said as he walked the length of his dungeon classroom. The command was unnecessary; students were already pulling parchment and quill from their bags, preparing to take notes on his lecture. These were seventh year students, NEWT level students, and if anyone in the school knew what he expected of them, it was this class.

They were the best Potions students in the school, and a bright class, advanced well beyond what the Ministry required of them. They were possibly the brightest class he'd ever taught, though he certainly wasn't going to tell them that. In fact, a number of them could probably sit the NEWT exams and pass well enough today, even without the benefit of another year of practice. Severus was not interested in 'well enough'. He was interested in perfection, and he held onto some hope that come June, they might just achieve that perfection. He'd never had an entire class earn Outstanding marks on their NEWTs, but he thought this class might.

"I have been reviewing your final exam marks from last year," he told them as he took his place at the front of the class. That was actually quite an understatement. He had reviewed them after he first marked them and assigned everyone an O. Upon review, he'd found two he could have marked down to E's had he been so inclined, but had felt generous enough to let the grades stand. Whether he would admit it or not, he was impressed with this class. "Your progress has been… acceptable." i Who are you trying to fool? Their progress has been phenomenal. /i

A few of his students were shifting in their seats, looking at one another with muted and controlled satisfaction. Professor Snape never handed out compliments, and even one so understated as the one he'd just offered was enough to make more than one of them twitter excitedly.

He hesitated for a moment, once more revisiting the question of whether or not he should make his expectations known to his students. There was a part of him that insisted that if he offered them a collective goal, and perhaps even an incentive, they might well surpass his wildest expectations of them. There was another part of him that scorned the idea of appealing to the students to meet this outrageous goal he had set for himself.

Given that he still hadn't decided, it seemed like an excellent time to go over the rules that Malfoy had instructed them to cover. Picking up the four pages of parchment, Severus scowled at it a bit. "You will continue to progress this year," he announced, flipping through the pages. He could quite easily hate that woman for insisting on this, but he could also sympathize with her. He certainly didn't want to read four pages of rules and forbidden objects and practices, and he doubted she was interested in it either.

"You will also obey the rules this year," he announced. "Those of you who are in my House, you may rest assured that if I hear any of you have disobeyed these rules, you will pine for those nostalgic detentions cleaning foul substances from cauldrons. As for the rest of you, if Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick do not take transgressions as seriously as I do, you may count on the cauldrons that the Slytherins will wish for. It is ridiculous that a list of rules such as this even has to exist, and if I must waste my time to read them to you, you _will _obey them."

He spent a moment finding the right distance from his face to be able to read the words; eventually, he was going to have to give in and admit that he needed spectacles for reading, but not yet. He was determined to at least make it until he was forty before he gave into that sign of aging.

"First," he began, "all students are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits…"

* * *

Despite the brilliance of the morning sunlight, heavily perfumed smoke swathed the North Tower with dimness. What light filtered in through the windows did so through scarves of filmy chiffon which diffused the radiance and offered only a faint glow where there should have been beams of sunshine. The air was warm, thick with incense and the steam from brewing tea in her previous class.

Everything in the classroom was draped and layered in scarves and swatches of fabric—silk here and wool there, a collision of colors that did not match, yet which somehow seemed to swirl together in the most natural of ways possible. Sybil sat on the most scarf-laden of the chairs, her thin legs crossed, her hands draped over the arms of the chair, her bespangled and bejeweled robes sparkling with the dancing of candle flames.

Behind her enormous, thick spectacles, her eyes were closed, her thin face tilted upward, her slender throat stretching as though she could touch the heights of the tower through force of will. Sitting like this, surrounded by smoke and mirrors, her senses dulled by burning sage, it was easy to ignore the room she sat in and to focus instead on the rest of the world that she should not be able to hear.

The stairs that spiraled up the tower carried the sounds of approaching students. She waited until the whispers and shuffling had settled a bit, then waved her wand almost sleepily towards the trapdoor, letting it open of its own accord. "You needn't loiter at the door, my children. Come in. Come in and leave your doubts behind."

They came in, though she had been teaching enough years to know that it was unlikely they had left their doubts behind. As they shuffled into the classroom and found their seats, Sybil stood, moving her shoulders with a practiced jerk and setting her long, fluttering sleeves to flight.

"Good morning," she intoned in a misty, faraway voice. "It is gratifying, as always, to see you in this world again. The mists of the beyond are a lonely, fathomless world beyond the understanding of the flesh."

A trio of the Hufflepuff fourth years sat, enraptured, thrilled with her every word. Half a dozen of them looked almost frightened, the remaining skeptical. There were always a few who had the necessary broadness of mind to grasp the complexities of Divination, and they were almost always female.

"This term," Sybil continued, "we shall look to the heavens for our clues to the mysteries of time and space, and all shall be revealed in due course. Before we begin, however, I must warn you all—I have had a startling revelation in my crystal!" She swept her hands broadly, and her sleeves fluttered madly, the spangles on her dress sparkling furiously and the chains about her neck clinking lightly. Several students jumped.

Sybil placed her hands over her heart, her eyes closed, face upturned again as though seeking guidance. "The danger," she whispered, "the menace that haunts this ancient castle…" She felt sure that none of the Hufflepuffs would realize she was talking about Filch. "It is best you be prepared," she moaned, stepping forward suddenly and clutching one wide-eyed student's face between her spidery hands. Her eyes were open wide now, and she sank to her knees in front of the boy, who looked decidedly uncomfortable with the situation. "It is best that you be _warned_," she whispered.

She let that ominous proclamation sink over the room before she swept to her feet again and, with a flutter of filmy robes, glided to her chair, plucking the sheets of parchment from the table beside it. She opened them with great care, as though they were ancient and precious texts inscribed on the most fragile of vellum instead of a stack of parchment that Regalia Malfoy had charmed as a duplicate of her own set of rules.

"First," Sybil breathed, "naught but danger lies within the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. You must all avoid it, at all costs."

* * *

Minerva stood to one side while her fifth year Ravenclaws filed in and took their seats. This was her fourth class of the day, and she had a pounding headache, and if she had to go over that the dress code one more time, she was going to rip the handbook apart and shove the pages down Regalia Malfoy's throat until she choked on them.

As the last of the students settled into their chairs, Minerva made up her mind. She tapped her wand on the desk and cleared her throat. "Silence," she said, and talking ceased immediately. She began to make a slow circuit of the classroom. "Welcome to your fifth year of Transfiguration. For some of you, this will be your final year, but do not think for a moment that this means you may stop working. This will be your most difficult year yet, and a year of monumental importance. I hope I needn't remind you that you will be sitting your Ordinary Wizarding Levels this June, and these exams will shape your futures."

One of the girls on the front row was scribbling far too intently to be taking notes about this opening lecture, and Minerva walked towards the student, taking her quill from her and placing it on her desk without so much as a pause in her words.

"Some of you will wish to continue with Transfiguration after this year, and some of you will be required to in order to pursue the career option of your choice. I would advise none of you to take this year lightly, in any of your classes. I am certainly not the only teacher at this school who accepts only the brightest students into a NEWT level class."

She paused at the far end of the classroom, and began a slow return to her desk. "This will be a busy year for all of us, and we haven't the time to waste on nonsense. I trust you are all aware of the expectations I have for you? They have not lessened since last year. You will be in class every day, and if you are not, you may be sure that I will speak with Professor Flitwick about it. You will be in class _on time_ every day. You will complete all reading, and all assignments _before_ you come to class." She paused in front of a pair of boys and leveled a stern gaze on them. "And there will be _no_ horseplay in this classroom. Transfiguration is no less dangerous or complex than it was when you began your time at Hogwarts, and it will not become less dangerous or complex. I will not have discipline problems in this classroom, and I hope that is _quite_ clear to everyone."

She completed her trek back to her desk at a brisk pace and plucked up the parchment Malfoy had handed out last night. Holding it in front of her and peering through her spectacles at it, Minerva read the first few words aloud. "To ensure the continued safety and productivity of every student in this school, the following rules will be obeyed at all times and under all circumstances. There are no exceptions." She looked up, letting her eyes sweep the classroom. "Has anybody _not_ seen these rules yet?" she asked, her eyes peering sharply around the room. No one stirred. "Has anyone _not_ heard them at least twice?" Again, there was no answer. "Does anyone have any questions regarding them? Does anyone feel a need for me to go over them again?" She finally had a few responses, heads shaking, relieved expressions etched on faces.

"Excellent," she said briskly. "Then you will all be prepared for a quiz over them the next time we meet. Now, take out parchment and quills. We will begin the year with vanishing spells, where we ended off last year. You will remember that we ended last year learning to vanish inanimate objects. This year, you will begin practicing with animals. When we meet again next time, you will be expected to put today's lesson to use on slugs, so you will need to pay very close attention to the theory behind it…"

* * *

Standing on the platform of a classroom that was so impersonal, wearing a robe that still held the charm that made it appear less shabby than it was, Remus tapped his wand impatiently against his desk and waited. Every new class was enough to make him hold his breath, but this was the first group of Slytherins, and it had been the Slytherins who made him nervous on some level. Not that he was afraid of them as students, or as witches and wizards, nor even as people. He did, however, have a healthy fear of their parents and a certain nervousness about what their parents would say when they discovered that the werewolf was back teaching their children again

The grindylow in the tank on his desk made faces against the glass, but Remus ignored him, his mind still elsewhere. Malfoy had told him he was to go into Hogsmeade this evening to acquire new robes, and he was going to have to take her up on her offer to advance him a loan against his first month's salary. His face burned, his pride already sorely abused and the prospect of additional insult did little to improve his mood.

He didn't have long to brood over it, though, and soon the students arrived and were seated, talking animatedly to one another about how exciting their first Charms lesson of the year had been and ignoring all his attempts to bring the class to order. After several attempts to quiet them, Remus snatched up his wand and muttered, "_Sonorus!_" As he spoke again, his voice was amplified to rise above the din of chattering students. "Quiet!" he commanded, though his command was considerably less convincing than Snape's would have been. A hush came over the classroom, but it was short-lived. Before he even finished calling the roll, the chatter had grown to a roar again.

"Everyone is to sit down," he ordered, raising his voice again, "and be quiet. We have a lot to cover today, and you are not leaving until we have finished, and I am not beginning until you are all quiet."

They didn't so much as begin to whisper. It was every teacher's worst nightmare—no matter how he pretended, Remus was acutely aware that his power in the classroom was virtually nonexistent at the moment, and he was rapidly running out of ideas.

"I _will_ assign everyone in this room a detention if everyone does not settle down."

If they heard him, they were ignoring him, and doing a damn fine job of it. From the handful of conversations he could pick out, they were talking about meaningless drivel, which meant that this was a purposeful attempt to undermine his authority. They were simply determined to disobey, and they were ganging up on him.

The situation was quickly progressing from bad to worse, and as though the fates were enjoying his helplessness, he realized that Regalia Malfoy was standing at the door, a displeased frown on her face as she watched. Remus closed his eyes, half expecting her to stalk in and take over, but when he opened his eyes again, she was gone. At least that part of the nightmare had disappeared, and he could only hope that she had merely been an hallucination.

"Settle down, _now!_" he insisted, and two of the students glanced at him at least. No one stopped talking. Remus could feel his patience slipping as he stalked over to his desk and pulled a drawer open with enough frustrated force that it came out of the desk entirely and fell onto the floor. Several students laughed, but he ignored them, and ignored the scattered contents of the drawer, picking up his calendar only and opening it. "Very well," he announced. "We'll begin scheduling detentions right now then. Miss Gossett, I assume that this evening at six will—"

"QUIET!"

That was possibly the last voice Remus had wanted to hear, and judging from the looks on a number of faces, it was also the last voice several of the students had been expecting to hear. All talking ceased immediately as Severus stalked to the front of the classroom. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed to a thin line.

"I just had my third year Potions class interrupted by the Headmistress," he informed them in a low, deadly voice, "who informed me that a class of _Slytherin_ students was making enough noise that she could hear them from _eleven doors down._"

Remus felt as though he might as well not even be in the room for all the effect he'd been having and for all the mind anyone was paying him. Severus hadn't so much as looked at him.

"All of you will be in detention with me tonight at seven, at which time we will be discussing appropriate behavior, and if I am _ever_ called from my teaching duties to settle down a group of Slytherin students again, those students will suffer my _extreme_ displeasure. Do I make myself quite plain?"

Fourteen students were staring back at him, wide-eyed and subdued now and apparently taking Snape's threats much more seriously than they'd taken Remus'.

"Professor Lupin _will_ have your cooperation, or I will know about it, and you will regret it. Do I need to remind you that you will be sitting your OWL exams this year? I expect every one of you to pass, and if you do not, and if you have not been paying attention in this class, I will relish every word as I recommend your expulsion from this school. Is _that_ clear?"

No one moved, and no one said a word.

"Now, you will behave. I trust you all know what that means? You will give Professor Lupin the same consideration you would give to me or Professor McGonagall, and if I discover that you have not, you will find yourself answering to me. Is _that_ clear?"

Finally someone spoke. "He's just a werewolf."

Snape's head snapped towards the one who had spoken. "I do not care if he is a flobberworm, Bullard. He is a professor in this school, and therefore you _will_ behave in his class. And you will also have an essay on my desk first thing tomorrow morning detailing precisely what it means to be respectful to a teacher. Does anyone else have any concerns that we need to discuss?"

"Do we still have to serve detentions with him?" asked a girl on the front row.

Remus took it upon himself to answer that one, and hopefully to reassert some of his lacking authority. "Yes, Miss Tucker, you do."

Annoyingly, she looked at Snape for confirmation.

"Yes," he said tersely, then straightened. "And as I said, if I am _ever_ called out of a class to settle you lot down again, you will sorely regret it, so I advise you to think carefully before you decide to rebel against a teacher in this school." Snape finally turned to look at Remus. "If you have any more problems that you can't handle, let me know, and I will take care of it."

Snape stalked out of the classroom, leaving a sullen silence in his wake. After a brief pause, Remus cleared his throat. "Open your books to page seven," he told them.

"I thought you were supposed to read us the rules," challenged one of the students in the back.

Remus fought a scowl, chafing at being told what he was supposed to be doing. "Very well," he snapped. "The class is nearly half over anyway, so you can do the work we were going to do in class as homework." He snatched up his copy of the rules and began reading. "All students are to remember that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits at all times, and anyone caught in it will serve detentions as set by the Headmistress and will earn his or her House a twenty point deduction…"

* * *

_A/N: You know, despite my best intentions, I keep letting a two months slip by between updates on this one. I swear I haven't forgotten it, and I'm not going to!_

_cecelle: thank you! As I'm sure you know by now, the Snape-Lupin dynamic is one of my favorites to play with. It's just so full of potential._

_Silverthreads: She wouldn't be a Malfoy without worrying about such things, would she? I like to imagine that Hogwarts is probably the most laid back of the Wizarding Schools that we know about so far, so while Dumbledore might tolerate messily-dressed students, I think they're going to be in for a rude shock with Malfoy ;)_

_Crookykanks:hangs head in shame: you ask for a sooner update and I let it go twice as long. I feel like such a bad author._

_Lou: Nothing is ever as it seems. And if it is, it's not worth writing about ;)_

_Lizella: I love staff fics, personally, and I love the staff-room dynamics. Of course, it's mostly conjecture, but I have fun with it. I'm so glad you enjoy it too!_

_duj: Now the question is whether or not Malfoy will bounce back from the failure. And whether or not, having tasted it for a second time in her life, if she is going to become more difficult still to work with. I feel like she has quite a lot of potential in that position, but she hasn't got the hang of it yet._

_excessivelyperky: Now, now, if these kids have the money for dungbombs and butter beer, then surely they have the money for new robes, right? ;) I've had a lot of great response to the staffroom meetings. Apparently, that strikes a chord with a lot of people._

_Neotoma: you know, it isn't often that I let a review send me in another direction, but since you mentioned Lupin's bad situation, I decided to really play that one up (as you can see the beginnings of in this chapter). I tend to agree with you about Regalia: she's got the potential, but she still needs some practice. Can you imagine her as a Headmistress in, say, fifty years? Scary._

_Liat: now if I told you whether or not Dumbledore will be back, what would be the point of continuing to write? And good point about Harry and Co. Hope they figure out that Regalia means business BEFORE they do something expel-worthy._

_Lildrusilla: A Malfoy in a school that accepts Muggle-borns. It does make you wonder what might happen, doesn't it? I'm glad you find Regalia so irritating. I consider that a personal success!_

_Again, as always, I have to plug the name of my marvelous beta: larilee. And thanks to everyone for reading and leaving reviews, and most especially for being patient with me as I spend an eternity on each of these chapters!_

_Jen_


	16. Chapter 16: Against the Current

**Chapter 16: Against the Current**

"Did you have any more problems with the students, Lupin?"

Lupin concentrated very intently on the sugar he was adding to his tea. "No," he replied, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "The rest of the class went quite smoothly, thank you." Severus _would_ feel the need to bring that up here, at lunch, when all the rest of the staff was present.

"What happened?" Minerva asked, pausing in the buttering of her roll.

Remus was quiet, not really sure what to say that wouldn't just make it worse. He was spared too much thought on the matter when Severus replied, though.

"Some of the Slytherins thought it would be _amusing_ to test his authority," Severus replied. "Malfoy summoned me from one of my own classes to settle them down."

"Really, Severus, you should be a little more apologetic about that," Minerva scolded, and Remus attempted to tune out the conversation. He knew that his ears were already edged with pink, though.

"Don't start with me, Minerva. I'm not in the mood for it. I'm not the one who pretends that my House is above reproach. The Slytherin students are as strong-willed as the Gryffindors."

"Remus, did you have any problems with the Gryffindors today?" Minerva asked.

"Erm, no," Remus muttered, taking a great interest in his stew.

"See?" Minerva challenged Severus.

"See nothing. They consider him a half-step above a mate. Your little angels are kind enough to save their shenanigans for me," he replied, poking his spoon half-heartedly at his own bowl of stew.

"Are you saying you have problems controlling the Gryffindor students?" Minerva asked, and she sounded entirely too smug for Remus' tastes.

"I am not," Severus answered. He had apparently found something in the stew that didn't offend him, as he finally took a bite of it. "The first year students invariably attempt something to find out if the rumors are true. The braver of the second years will attempt something to see if I was merely bluffing last year. No one dares by mid-September."

"No one dares what?" Rolanda had arrived late and seated herself on Remus' other side.

"Lupin had a bit of a problem with one of his classes this morning," Severus answered, talking across him.

"Ooh," she said sympathetically, clapping a hand against his shoulder. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, though."

"No, of course not," Severus muttered. "It's perfectly acceptable to allow twenty fifteen-year-olds to have their way in a class."

"And I suppose you've never lost control of a class?" Rolanda shot back. Remus wished he were anywhere but in the midst of this conversation. If they were going to gossip about him, couldn't they at least have the decency to do it when he wasn't present?

"I have not," Severus replied.

"Have you?" Remus asked suddenly, looking at Rolanda hopefully. He'd feel better if he knew that he wasn't the only one this had happened to.

"Well, er, no," she said, smiling bracingly. "But I've lost control of a student loads of times."

"There is a difference between having a single student successfully challenge your authority and having an entire class do so," Severus pointed out. He sounded as though this were an academic debate, but Remus wasn't fooled for a minute. Severus was relishing this opportunity, and he was going to milk it until the bitter end.

"I wouldn't tolerate either," Minerva replied.

"Are you saying that you would be able to subdue an entire class that was thwarting your efforts?" Rolanda asked, taking a bite of her stew. "I don't think I would be able to."

"Yes." Severus and Minerva answered the question simultaneously, then glared at each other, as though each was challenging the other's impudence.

"I am obviously capable of it," Severus continued, moving his stew around in his bowl a bit more. "I did so this morning."

"But they weren't rebelling against you, Severus," Minerva pointed out, and Remus stifled a sigh. They'd almost directed the conversation away from him entirely, and even if every word was a reminder of just how bloody incompetent he was, at least the others might have been forgetting it. Until Severus steered it back to him.

Remus glanced at Severus from the corner of his eye; Severus was hiding a smirk in his water goblet. _You're enjoying every minute of this, aren't you?_ Remus thought sourly.

"Anyway, I wouldn't let it get to you, Remus," Rolanda said, clapping him on the shoulder again. "You'll get the hang of it."

"Remind me later and I'll tell you what happened my first day of teaching," Minerva said, leaning forward so she could smile at him despite Severus being between them. "Or better yet, remind me and I'll tell you about Severus' first day. How long did it take you to clear up all those detentions, Severus?"

Severus scowled at her. "Three weeks," he muttered. "But it worked."

"He had every student in the school in detention," Minerva confided. "It was more a punishment for _him_ than for the students."

Remus glanced at Severus again, studying him while taking another bite of his stew. In another time and place, he probably would have been trying to befriend Severus. Would have considered him a peer, someone his own age with more experience, potentially with advice to offer. It would be nice to have an actual friend here right now. Someone to share a beer with and to tell him that it wasn't the end of the world.

Severus' spoon dropped into his bowl with a clatter. "What?" he snapped, looking at Remus. "You're staring at me as though you've never seen anyone use a spoon."

"Sorry," Remus muttered, returning his attention to his meal. He finished it in silence.

After lunch, the day continued to drag on, though thankfully without further incident. Of course, he didn't have any more Slytherin classes that day, either, and he didn't dare get his hopes up. Every class he taught that afternoon had heard about 'what the Slytherins had done', and many of his students were quite indignant on his behalf. On the one hand, he was touched by their vehemence, but on the other, he felt his control slipping from those classes as well—there was a sense that they were doing as he said because they liked him, not because he was their teacher.

By the end of the day, he caught Regalia Malfoy standing in his door eight times, and given that twice he was barely aware of her, he had his suspicions that she was there at least a few times when he was _not_ aware of it.

The first time he saw her was almost immediately after lunch. He was settling the fifth year Gryffindor students, who remembered him vividly from their second year, and many of whom seemed anxious to find out what he'd been doing for the last two years. A glance at the door had revealed Regalia Malfoy, a disapproving look on her face. He ignored her for nearly a minute before she held up a stack of parchment and looked pointedly at his desk. With a sigh, he'd finished up the idle chat and started in on dress code and the list of forbiddens.

Twice she'd shown up while he was lecturing, and even if it made him a bit self conscious, at least he was 'caught' doing something right for a change. Once she had found him and the rest of the class laughing as the third-year Ravenclaws attempted to immobilize Cornish Pixies. He couldn't tell if she approved of that or not. The remaining two times, he'd been walking through the classroom while students copied notes. Every time she appeared, he grew a little more irritated with her. It was very clear that she didn't trust him.

When he finally dismissed his last class, he shoved his wand into his pocket and his grade ledgers into his briefcase. A part of him was relieved that the day was over, but another part was quick to remind him that the worst had yet to manifest itself. He still had to approach that woman and request the advance of his first month's salary so he could go into Hogsmeade and buy new robes. And he had to do it quickly before Gladrags closed. He could just imagine the look on Malfoy's face if he didn't turn up in a new robe tomorrow.

He made a detour into the staff room before heading up to the headmistress' office, and as he dropped his attendance sheets into the basket, he heard voices coming down the corridor.

"…every time I looked up! Honestly. She's worse than that Umbridge woman."

"You too, eh? And here I thought I was special."

The door swung open, an irate Minerva and an indignant Pomona coming inside. "Oh, hello, Remus," Pomona said, smiling brightly.

"Remus!" Minerva snapped. "Was that woman hovering outside your door all day, too?"

"I… ah…" he began, but was interrupted by the door banging open again.

"If that woman ever comes _near_ my classroom again, I'm going to _accidentally_ let a Swelling Potion spill on her nose." Severus dropped his attendance sheets into the basket and folded his arms.

"We were just discussing that," Minerva replied. "It seems that she has nothing better to do than make rounds of all the classrooms and spy on us."

"You didn't answer, Remus—was she watching you too?"

"Yes," he replied mildly. He made an attempt to look irritated, but he was so busy being relieved that he hadn't been singled out for the scrutiny that he couldn't quite manage a convincing tone.

"This is ridiculous," Severus muttered. "One would think that we were an incompetent lot. I can understand her wanting to be sure we manage our classrooms effectively, but she should have been able to tell that much by noon."

"Agreed," Minerva replied. "And if this is the way she thinks the entire year is going to progress—"

"Shush," Remus muttered. From his vantage point near the door, he could see the woman in question. "She's coming."

When Malfoy stepped into the room, one of those brightly-plumed birds perched on her shoulder, the four of them were quiet.

"Professor McGonagall," Malfoy said, nodding to Minerva. "Professor Snape. Professor Sprout. Professor Lupin."

"Headmistress." They all responded more or less in unison, nodding their heads in her direction.

"I was just coming to find you, Professor Lupin," she said, and he steeled himself for the humiliation of her announcing his situation to his colleagues. He thought he could live with Minerva knowing, but he wasn't sure his pride would withstand the way Severus would smirk at him. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course," Remus replied.

"Good. It won't take long. Erm, why don't we go to your office? It seems such a waste of time to go all the way up to mine for a five-minute conversation."

Remus breathed a sigh of relief as Malfoy turned to Severus.

"And then, Professor Snape, I'd like a word with you as well. Will you be in your office in… oh, fifteen to twenty minutes?"

Severus' expression tightened slightly. "Certainly, Headmistress," he replied stiffly.

"Good. And then, Professor McGonagall. I'm afraid the conversation I need to have with you is going to last substantially longer than fifteen minutes, so I'll leave it to your choice—my office or yours?"

"My office is on the way to yours," Minerva replied. "Why don't you let me know when you're ready for me and we can decide then?"

"Excellent! Are you coming, Professor Lupin?"

He followed her out of the staff room, and as they left, he heard Minerva mutter under her breath, "How did you get out of this unscathed, Pomona?"

Remus hid a smile as they walked back to his office. He opened the door and gestured her inside, then shut the door behind them. As he turned to offer her a seat, she mused, "You need some plants in here or something."

_Wonderful_, he thought sourly. _She's going to make me use the part of my first month's salary that doesn't go to new robes on new furnishings for my office._ "I haven't really had a chance to make it my own yet," he replied neutrally. "Will you have a seat?"

"Oh, that's not at all necessary. As I said in the staff room, this won't take long." She reached into her robe and produced a small blue bag, then reached for his hand. She placed the bag in his palm. "Fifty Galleons," she informed him. "That should certainly be sufficient for two robes with a good bit left over besides. If you need another advance before the end of the month, just let me know."

Remus stared at his hand for a moment, trying not to make a fool of himself. He'd forgotten what it was like to hold that much money in his hands.

"I've already been to Gladrags, and I spoke with Madam Greylace—she's expecting you and should have a selection of robes ready for you to choose from. No, I'm not going to do your shopping for you, Professor, but I knew you would be pressed for time today and I _do_ want you dressed decently tomorrow."

Remus only stared at her.

"You're looking at me as though I've grown two heads. Has Professor Snape already made good on his threat to splash me with a Swelling Potion?"

His eyes widened. How had she heard that? "I—er—no."

"Believe it or not, Professor, but I am quite a reasonable woman. I may be demanding, but my demands are reasonable. Now go, before Gladrags closes for the evening."

"Thank you," he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Not at all," she replied, smoothing her robe. She was halfway to the door when she stopped suddenly, turning to look at him again. "I am not picking on you, Professor," she said. "I hope you realize that. I expect no more or less from you than I do from anyone on staff."

He nodded, and it was a strange comfort. If she was being honest, this would be the first time in his memory that he'd ever been treated exactly like everyone else.

* * *

Severus was sitting at his desk when Malfoy knocked on his open door. He looked up, raising an eyebrow at the fact that she didn't just enter given that this meeting was expected and the door was ajar. "Come in," he invited when it became clear that the invitation would be necessary.

She stepped inside and shut the door, and that was the first indication he had that he wasn't going to like what she had to say.

"As I said before, this should only take a minute," she told him. "May I sit?"

He barely refrained from shaking his head in amazement. "Please," he said, gesturing. Dumbledore had never needed an invitation to sit, nor to enter, nor to make himself at home, and as much as that had often irritated Severus, he wasn't sure that this formality didn't irritate him more.

"I know you're busy, Professor Snape, so I'll be brief. The behavior of your fifth year students in Professor Lupin's class today was positively scandalous."

Severus raised both eyebrows. "Indeed."

"I truly expect better than that, Professor. I would suggest that you speak with the rest of your students, because if I see such blatant disregard for another faculty member from your House again, I will hold you responsible."

He could only stare at her. _Priceless. I'm being called to the carpet because that bloody werewolf can't control a class._

"Further, I think it is time that you adjust your attitude towards Professor Lupin. I realize that you do not like him, and I understand that you have your reasons, but he is a member of this faculty, and I will not have the sort of discord among my staff that I have witnessed between the two of you. I suggest you work your quarrel out between yourselves, because I have no room for it in this school."

He could feel his jaw sinking ever-lower as she spoke, but for once, he didn't give a damn that his amazement was etched so plainly on his face.

"I am convinced that what I saw in that classroom this morning was a result of the residual animosity between you and Professor Lupin, and I will not have it. Whether you like him or not, whether you approve of him or not, you _will_ be civilized towards him. Is that quite clear?"

Severus finally found his voice, but he was still missing the ability to speak coherently, so he settled for sputtering.

"If you have something to say, say it."

"What have I done to deserve this lecture?" he demanded finally. "I've barely spoken to the man twice since he arrived! And that is no more or less often than I speak to most of my colleagues!"

"I have eyes and ears," Malfoy replied. "I heard you at lunch today. If that is the way you treat all of your colleagues then—"

"Why don't I just stay in the dungeons all the time?" Severus suggested. "If I never leave, I can't possibly offend anyone."

"I won't have you poisoning this staff," Malfoy responded. "At the moment, I am merely making my expectations known and it goes no further than this room. If the situation does not improve within one week, though, I _will_ make an issue of it. Good evening."

She turned to leave, but Severus whipped out of his chair and put his hand against the door, preventing her from opening it. "Are you telling me," he began, clipping each word, his voice barely rising above a whisper, "that socializing with long-time enemies is now a part of my _job description_?"

She raised one eyebrow and looked at him coolly. "If that is what I must tell you to ensure your cooperation, then yes. I suppose it is."

She pushed his hand from the door and let herself out, leaving him to stare after her in stunned silence.

* * *

It had been nearly half an hour since they'd departed from the staff room, and in that time, Minerva had done little more than wonder what Malfoy was saying to Remus and Severus. She could only imagine the nonsense that woman was capable of if the last two weeks were any indication, and the more she thought about it, the more it irritated her.

By the time a knock announced Malfoy's presence, Minerva had worked herself into a state best likened to a tightly wound spring. She jerked the door open, and her eyes met with Malfoy's.

"Professor McGonagall," Malfoy said formally.

"Headmistress." Any pretense at being on a first name basis had been dropped after the fiasco regarding Remus.

"Do you prefer to have this conversation here or in my office? It makes no difference to me."

"Have a seat, then."

Malfoy sat, and for a long moment, no words passed between them. This time, Minerva was determined to make the headmistress speak first. It worked. After several minutes, it was Malfoy who broke the silence.

"I am still rather unhappy with you for the way you deceived me with regards to Professor Lupin's appointment. You led me to believe that he was the perfect candidate for this position."

Minerva sighed. "He is a werewolf," she said flatly. "It's an unfortunate complication, but other than that, he is the perfect choice."

Malfoy leaned back in her chair. "He is barely capable of controlling a classroom," she countered.

"He lacks experience as a teacher," Minerva replied. "Do you expect anyone to walk in with no experience and be able to quell a rebellious class with a look?"

"Do you honestly believe he has the temperament for it?" Malfoy asked. "Truthfully, McGonagall. Do you honestly think he is cut out for the job?"

"Yes," Minerva replied without reservation. "You haven't been here long enough to see it, but I suspect you will. The students respond to him, and whether they do it because they respect his authority or because they respect him as a person is irrelevant.

"Very well, but for the sake of the students, I hope you're right about him."

"I am," Minerva replied stiffly. "Is this what you came here to discuss?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "No," she replied. "I actually came to discuss Professor Snape."

"Professor Snape?" Minerva repeated.

"Yes. I am rather tired of his attitude. He spreads more discontent among the staff than the rest of you combined. If he is gathered with two other faculty members, he is stirring up trouble, and then he turns around and has the audacity to pander to me. I'm not impressed by it."

"So now Severus is your next target?" Minerva snapped. "You don't have the slightest idea what you're doing, and it's time you stopped rushing headlong into these things!"

"I do not have _targets_," Malfoy replied. "I have _focal points_."

"Then _focus_ on someone else!" Minerva snapped. "Focus on finding a better use for your own time! Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you are Deputy Headmistress and as such, I expect your cooperation in this matter."

"You _what_?" Minerva snapped. "And what does that mean, precisely? You expect me to ferret out information for you? Well, you can just find someone else to do it, because I'm not going to be party to any such nonsense. Severus Snape is one of the most effective teachers we have, and I'm not going to have you putting this school's reputation in jeopardy because he won't play your ridiculous little games."

"Then I would recommend you take it upon yourself to see that he has no reason to catch my attention." Malfoy stood abruptly. "And that, Professor McGonagall, is what I wished to discuss with you."

Minerva's eyes were narrowed to slits, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Very well, Headmistress," she snapped. "Good evening, then."

Malfoy opened the door, then paused and half-turned again. "Oh, and one more thing," she said. "That staff meeting you so graciously dismissed last night? We will continue it after dinner. See to it that everyone is made aware of it and that everyone realizes that it is mandatory." She shut the door firmly behind herself as she left, leaving Minerva to scowl in her wake.

* * *

The staff meeting commenced directly after dinner, and no one dared object this time as Malfoy passed out the agenda. To walk out of a meeting once was one thing; to do it twice in a row was edging dangerously close to mutiny.

Guilty looks were exchanged by all as Malfoy informed them that she was aware that they had not gone over the rules and dress code with all their classes, and when she informed them that they would rectify that situation tomorrow, there was a general scribbling of notes to themselves. It seemed that Malfoy was determined to win that battle, and none of them considered the matter worth their jobs.

She went on to hand out the schedules for her first round of observations, which would be conducted the following week. No one was terribly thrilled at that prospect, but no one argued either. They were all well aware that they had signed a magically binding document agreeing to this.

She spent the next half hour detailing the goals she had for the term, and unsurprisingly, the Defense Against the Dark Arts situation topped the list. As she asked for volunteers, Lupin looked as though he might throw his quill across the room any minute, and the more perceptive members of the faculty felt for him—Malfoy was clearly insinuating that he was not capable of accomplishing what needed to be done with his classes.

After a pointed stare from Malfoy to Severus, Severus volunteered to help with the project. Malfoy was obviously pleased about that and instructed Severus and Remus to coordinate their efforts. _Instructed_ them, not asked.

Aside from the progress the headmistress wished to achieve with the Defense students, she had ambitious plans to identify the students who were most in need of extra instruction, and by the start of the next term, she obviously intended to have every fifth or seventh year who seemed in danger of not earning an OWL or NEWT in extra classes. She also had plans for practice exams in all subjects, asserting that there should be no surprises come June.

The fourth and sixth year students were her next concern, and she wanted everyone on staff to write out detailed assessments of each of the students' strengths, weaknesses and needs, and it was of little surprise to discover that she intended to implement additional tutoring sessions for those students as well over the course of the spring term.

More than one of the professors thought that it sounded as though their work load had just doubled.

She then announced her plans for parent visitation days, beginning the first weekend in October with parents of Hufflepuff students. She intended the parents to join their children for the entire day, attending classes with them, touring the castle, meeting the teachers. Parents would join the faculty for a private dinner on Friday night, during which time they would get to know the witches and wizards who were shaping their children's lives. On Saturday morning, there would be a Quidditch skirmish, unrelated to the House competition, between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Saturday afternoon would be left to Professor Sprout's planning, but Malfoy hoped it would be an event that would leave the parents with smiles on their faces.

No one could find any particular flaws in her plans, though more than one face reflected misgivings. The general unspoken consensus was that if this worked, it would be a miracle, but one well worth eating crow over.

At a quarter past nine, Malfoy finally stopped talking, more than two hours after she had started. She wrapped up by asking if anyone else had any problems that needed addressing—it would have had to be a serious problem indeed for anyone to extend the meeting any further. She finally informed them that this was going to be a regularly scheduled meeting on Mondays. This was met with a chorus of groans and grumbling, but everyone resigned themselves to their fate—they would never have time for anything except meetings ever again.

Malfoy did cheer them up a bit, though—she promised that these weekly meetings would be sufficient for the rest of the term unless something critical came up and demanded immediate attention. No one argued overly much about a meeting once a week if that meant that the rest of the week was to be free.

Besides, if they were perfectly honest with themselves, this had been a very productive meeting. And if Malfoy's plans were ambitious, they were admirable. How could anyone object to her plans to see the students be as successful as possible?

* * *

_A/N: _

_yukka: Thank you for your comments! I'm glad you're enjoying. And yes, it should be worth keeping an eye on those Gryffindors ;)_

_Silverthreads: Thank you!_

_Liat: Thank you! No worries, the students will make their appearances again._

_MadelineZ: Nope! Not abandoned. Backburner, perhaps, but not abandoned._

_duj: Thank you! Very true regarding Lupin. I don't envy him at all at the moment._

_Thanks to everyone for reading and taking the time to comment! Also thanks to LariLee for being my dear beta. She's wonderful._

_And I just checked again. The characters and associated fortune still aren't mine. _


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